Hidden Secrets
by Sitdownandwrite
Summary: Tris Prior is an aspiring author. She is in journalist for her school's newspaper, and writes down all the latest trending things and requested 'drama.' What happens when a famous actor, Four, moves to the school to try to recapture his past? Will he succeed in meeting new friends? Or will his suddenly hidden secrets become the next new trend of school?
1. Chapter 1

Hi

So I was kinda getting bored of my other cliche story, so this is a whole other spin at it. Hopefully different and better. If you want me to continue the High school story, please let me know.

 **Chapter 1:**

 _The echos outside my window were rattling, painful creaks and groans that sounded like people moaning for me to help them. But I couldn't help anyone. The more I did not help them, the worse the screams got. I wanted to scream myself, and get them out of my head, out of my head… Or join them…_

I closed my leather journal and sighed, setting my pencil down. I carefully rubbed my knuckles out of the pain from writing so long. I knew I had a writers block after coming up with almost the best ideas. It pained me to have to start a whole new story, or a whole other ending that made no sense. It just didn't work out, sometimes.

My stories are always in a different era, or time period. I have never wrote something modern day. I have never been good with that. There is no right or wrong way to write one of those books, but I couldn't seem to grasp the idea of a romantic comedy, or a casual, yet fun, life.

Maybe it was because my life was so standard. I needed that pop of excitement that everyone wanted in their life. No, not being a singer, or having a romance.

For me, it was being an author.

I flick off my light, and ease out of my chair. I had a desk used for writing, and writing only. It was filled with all my previous notebooks, and papers. I didn't have time to clean up my mess. It wasn't a mess to me, anyway. It was like an archive with all my novels and short stories that I could go back to and take, putting them in other stories.

I should probably get to bed know. Today was Sunday, and I needed to be active at school tomorrow. I couldn't be a drab, or a messy, grumpy person tomorrow. On Mondays, I have journalism after school. I also had it on Friday, but on Fridays, we, the journalism group, updated the paper with the latest stuff we had.

It was fun as could be, I suppose. Usually, Fridays were the busiest day, trying to fit everything in. Paper news, football games, and all that fluff.

I tried to convince getting out of the games every Friday, but Will, my friend Christinas' crush, was on the team, and we _absolutely,_ _necessarily_ , needed to be their supporting our team every Friday. 'Team' meaning Will, of course.

My clock read 12:38, meaning bedtime. I flopped onto the bed to sleep. Usually, before I let myself black out into a pit of sleep, I think for a bit, just me and my thoughts. But today, my head rebelled against the thought, so I feel asleep before my head hit the pillow.

* * *

"Did you hear the news?"

I stood by my locker, rummaging through it, trying to find last night's homework, when Christina came.

"Huh?" I ask.

She laughs. "Completely clueless to what's going on in the school, eh? Hard to believe you're a journalist. For our schools _newspaper._ "

"Your one to talk." I defend.

She just sighs, and rolls her eyes. "Well, Missie, if you didn't already know, we have some news for the paper. And this will be a real hit, I guarantee it."

Our paper cost a nickel each. Very inexpensive, yet no one usually gets it. Our stories aren't top notch. Maybe it was because we didn't have that special spark of something everyone wanted to hear. Not since Micah Waters got pantsed.

But by Christina's reaction, I believe maybe this was that spark.

"Soooo," she continues, "you know Four, right?"

I knew Four. Tobias Eaton was his real name, affirmed by himself about a year ago. I don't know why everyone calls him Four. A stage name, I guess. Anyways, he is a famous actor. Handsome, charming, and being 'great with the ladies' gave him his personality. Almost every girl loved him. Everyone saw him as mysterious, and charming, but in a good way. The press has been trying to get a hold of him, and make him confess his stuff to the world, but they haven't had the opportunity yet. He was very confined, secretive, and different.

As for me, well, I didn't really care all that much. I mean, sure, he was alright, but not my favorite. I didn't want to make out with him, or date him. He seemed… whats the word… _overused_.

"Well," chirps Christina. "According the news, and the rest of the entire school, Four, the famous actor, will be coming back to high school for his senior year."

I gape at her.

"Guess what school that is, Tris. Just guess."

I shut my eyes. "No way."

She squeals. "Yes! Here! You know what this means? Not only is their yet another cute new hottie coming here, but also a great new story for out of the chart ratings!"

My heart rate picks up. I didn't care for Four, only just… the stories he may bring.

"Christina, this is amazing!" I say, smiling like a madman. I could finally have my big story, my whole new life, being gazed upon by many. Being liked for finally figuring out Four's secrets.

I could finally find my big break at this school.

 **I know it was short, but I am just giving you a snippet! I hoped you like. I like it, and I** **will** **be continuing.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

As you may of already guessed, journalism club after school was hectic. Everything was just going by so fast.

We were only in our junior year, making it a bit worse I guess. No senior would talk to junior.

But, we had all agreed to be like reporters, professional and classy. He would be joining the school this Thursday once he was done with his actor tour thing. Apparently, it's just going around the world getting interviewed and walking on red carpets.

Al, a guy in our group, agreed to go on the run to pass out the last bits of last week's' paper. No one like passing out old papers as it was. Too boring, and it was kind of embarrassing trying to get rid of the leftover newspapers no one wanted. Yet, we didn't want to waste any paper, so we had to at least try.

In the meantime, Christina and I both packed our agenda with random stuff about Four, like how we needed to get his schedule, and find some time in our day to interview him. It was kind of funny talking about this. We sounded like obsessive fan girls who couldn't pry our eyes off his masculinity.

Christina snaps her fingers. "He is a private guy. A little two private. We need someone… something like… Spies! That's it! We need people to spy on him. Get the juicy stuff." She wiggles her eyebrows.

"Christina," I warn, "there is a certain name for those people. Its called stalk-"

"It doesn't matter whats its called!" She waved her hand. "Don't you understand how big this is, Tris? Ever since today started, everything has been, like, a rush of electricity and excitement!We need to do this, Tris! It feels so right!"

I eye her. "Ok, ok. I agree. But don't you think that maybe we take it a bit too far if we stalk him? Poor kid probably gets chased by the paparazzi all the freakin' time."

"We are not going to, like, him getting changed or go to the bathroom. Just try to find his hobbies, activities, weird fetishes-"

"Weird fetishes?" I laugh.

She grins. "Yea. We have to make this paper the best, no exceptions, and no extra. Maybe we will get invited to the senior parties."

Christina always tried every year to get invited to those parties. They were for cool kids in any wear of high school, and anyone important. I had a feeling that Four would have no trouble at all getting invited to one of those parties.

"Senior parties? Is that all? What about the perks of being awesome?"

"Yea." She grins. "I will be a journalist writing for _The New York Times_ , and you will be a famous author by day, writer by night." Christina pokes my side. She knew my weird habit of not being able to go to bed without writing at least 3 or 4 chapters.

I shrug, and Christina laughs, and throws her arm around my shoulders.

* * *

I invited Christina over to come and watch a movie with Four in it. It was a romantic movie, and apparently had a lot of good ratings.

Christina was busy, though, so I was alone at home. I curled onto the couch, mashing myself against the couch cushions. Once I was comfortable with my bag of chips at an arm's reach, I played the movie.

It was cheesy, and stupid. I wonder why It got so many good ratings.

Then Four came on screen.

And now I understood.

He was handsome, like a greek god that you read about in history. The muscles in his arms were defined and well toned, and his shirt clung to his skin, as if the producers wanted to show his off. He wasn't exactly buff, yet really strong. He was stunning, and the camera made his blue eyes pop. I felt something warm in my chest.

The movie was about Four and this girl falling in love. The girl was some stupid blonde. I'm blonde headed as well, and I am not saying that girls with blonde hair are stupid, but dang, this one seemed to express her stupidity.

In the end, they ended up realizing how in love they were at a party, and kissed without any hesitation. It was gross, and slobbery, and they ended up hooking up in a bedroom which was miraculously upstairs. The blonde head ripped off Fours shirt, and I noticed the define muscles, the abs, _everything_. I kind of understood why people had an urge to sleep with him.

I curse myself out for that dirty thought, and fast forwarded the movie so I didn't have to watch the disgusting scene.

Once the movie ended, the credits rolled. The blonde girl's name in real life was Andrea something. I grunted and shut off the screen, making me alone in complete darkness.

I sigh, and trudge to bed. My eyelids feel droopy, and slobber threatens to make an appearance.

I already wrote the beginning of _Four aka Tobias Eaton_. We all agreed that could be the title of our article until something better popped up. I sat down a at the desk, encouraged to write a bit more, and ended up with:

 _Four, or Tobias Eaton, whatever you fancy. This superstar is well known across the globe, acting in various movies and..._

I looked at the sentence. Good way to start, I guess.

I flopped onto my bed, and buried myself in my bed sheets. I thought of Four, and his life. How easy would it be to find out about him? How hard?

I wonder what could be possibly wrong about his life that he'd keep away from the press. His life seemed perfect, almost too perfect.

I wonder if he also had a love interest, or a hot girlfriend. Maybe he dated that one girl from the movie he was in, or something. That could be a skyrocketing story. No way that wouldn't go viral, right?

Something clutched me in the stomach. Almost pity. I realized that I felt bad for Four. Always getting chased around by people, and having to push his secret farther and farther. I have never really bothered to notice him, or even really search him up. I wasn't obsessed by him like some girls were. So why was I know worrying?

I rock myself back and forth, until I fall asleep.

* * *

I told Christina all about the movie Four was in, telling her everything important. She reviles that she, herself, had been researching him, apparently finding 'juicy details' that she told me she'd save for later.

Tomorrow was the very waited upon day that Four would arrive. People were planning it out. Apparently, the principle allowed them to make a banner so big and long that hanged down from the roof. On it said, 'WE LOVE YOU FOUR!', in big, bubble letters and bright colors that hurt my eyes. The sight made me smirk. Oh yea, Four would absolutely _love_ that.

Along with all those fan girls making random junk, some boys on the football team apparently heard that he was a football player himself, and decided to try to recruit him as their new quarterback. They even made his jersey already, even if he did decline. I'm guessing you know what number they gave him.

There was the yearbook committee preparing to harass him with pictures, acting classes waiting for him to teach them, hot girls puckering their lips in anticipation, basically the whole school was on the edge of their seat waiting for Four to arrive. I have to admit, I was too.

Walking down the hallways, I could almost visualize exactly what I was going to ask him. We would start off simple, theme maybe add to it, get deeper. I smiled. I felt a nervous rush of adrenaline this morning. I couldn't wait any longer. I felt like a T.V. show host, or a reporter. Maybe I could also get some footage of him acting, or something.

I feel a strong hand grasp my arm and dig their fingernails into it. I yelp, but another hand covers my mouth.

"Quiet down! It's just me!"

I turn to see Christina laughing. "I scared you, huh?"

"Shut up." I mumble.

She only laughs again. Soon, we are both walking down the halls together before class. Al soon joins us.

"So," Christina says, "Let's talk about tomorrow. If it isn't already obvious, everyone is preparing. We need to, to. Who will take first shift in trying to talk to him?"

I hesitate before saying, "I will. Why not?" Christina only grins at this, and hands me a notebook where we will write down everything about him to add to the paper.

"So here is the deal." Christina continues. "We will publish our big break story about Four at the end of the year. This week, let's just write about his arrival. Agreed?"

"I agree. That gives us a bunch of time," nods Al. We had 8 months to write this story. I could tell a lot of effort and time was needed to make it worth it. It was only November, anyways, so that also gave us two chances to be popular and get invited to the biggest dances of the year hosted by the seniors, and i'm pretty sure Christina planned it out this way.

I nod as well. This gives us time for him to warm up to the school.

"Alright!" Cheers Christina. I've noticed how she has slightly started to take charge of the journalist group. There was no real group leader, but Christina always had that side of her that wanted to lead. I wanted to lead as well, and would have gladly volunteered for the role if I knew we had one. I just let it slide, though.

The bell rings, and Al says, "Off to calculus!" And he bustles through the crowd of people.

I look at the decorations of the fan girls, and all the already made changes for him, and walk off to next class, Christina on my tail.

 **I wanted to write more to give you guys an idea of it. Please Rate and review. I want to at least get 3 suggestions/ratings for each chapter. What do you guys think?**

 **Also, I am usually busy nowadays, and will try to write more. My first story was a bit of a fail almost, so I don't know if I should continue that…**

 **Toodles!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

I sipped on my coffee gratefully. I needed the extra energy.

Today was the day. It had finally arrived, and all of last night all I thought of was how I was going to approach him and give him his first taste of our paparazzi.

Although I was starting off rough. Slurping of my coffee, I was running off caffeine and sugar. I wonder when the breakdown would start from consuming this much of it.

The nearest cafe from my house was less than a mile from the school. I had my ride, but it was also nice to walk once in awhile. Overlooking the coffee shop was a park, mostly green fields with some trees and large parts of land to run on. There was a small, old, playset that most kids loved, way over to the ride side of the cafe. I remember when I was playing on the playground when I was little. Always insisting my mom to go on the seesaw with me, or playing in the sandbox. Crying for my dad to push me on the swing just one last time before we left, climbing the play set as if I was climbing a mountain. Good memories to keep.

I stroke my hair back. It was time I probably should get to school. I tried to dress nice out of suggestion of Christina, but ended up in a black long sleeved shirt and a pair camouflage boys' jeans. I put on a blue, almost grey, zip-up hoodie on top after a while of contemplating.

I rise from my seat, and take the last sip of my drink before disposing of it. Caffeine ran through my system, making me jitter with nervous excitement. I shudder.

I exit and walk to my car parked out front. Its nothing great. Just a BMW. Father's old car.

Driving to school, all I can think about is my big break, _our_ big break. This could make my senior year a walk in the park.

I never could have prepared myself for what the school had made. Just for Four.

Damn.

As I parked in the lot, I noticed the big group of people outside. In front were obviously the hot cheerleading girls who were known for their… well… bodies, almost.

Next to the cheerleaders were the football team looking anxious as usually, there jerseys and face paint on.

And behind them were just the rest of the school. Some held long, narrow poles that connected to a large banner. As if one big banner wasn't enough, this one says in pink and glittery letters, 'WELCOME'. I also notice band members, each with an instrument, on either side of the crowded group of people.

 _Wow,_ is all I can think. And wow is correct. It's amazing what they did, really. Yet they put so much effort into one guy. What if he bails and does not attend school today? For all you know, senior year?

Is this what it's like to be famous?

I break out of my daze, and unbuckle myself from the seat, flinging open the door. I needed to find Christina, or Al.

Instead, I find Will.

It's odd how it happens, really. I am just speed walking towards the front entrance of the school, trying to go around the crowd of mostly girls, when a voice behind me says, "Tris, right?"'

I spin around to face Will. He has some sports paint on his face, and his blonde hair flops over his face. He is tall, and wears his jersey like all the other players. I can see why Christina likes him. He's handsome, nice, and there aren't any bad rumors about him hooking up with multiple girls. He was clean.

"Oh. Hey, Will." I give him a friendly smile.

He returns it and asks, "Are you coming to my game tomorrow?"

"Most likely." I laugh at the idea of Christina dragging me along to the game just so she can stare at Will and his butt.

"Is… uh… Chris going?"

The question throws me off guard. My first approach would be 'Who the heck is Chris?', but know, I realize the only logical explanation would mean he is talking about Christina, which makes me smirk. How do they know each other? Did they talk?

"Who wants to know?" I say, raising an eyebrow.

"No one." He answers rather quickly.

I laugh. "Bye, Will. Catch you tomorrow."

"Bye," he replies.

Before I enter the school, I look at him from the corner of my eye, and say:

"Yea, she is."

* * *

I find Christina and Al in the cafeteria, both intently staring at something. Christina is eating a muffin, which she doesn't mind to eat vigorously as if her life depended on it.

"Hey." I say, as I slide into the seat next to Al, and set the notebook down that we have just for Four himself. Christina says there is a bit of info on him that she found online.

"Yo, Tris. Glad you're here." Christina smile's. Then, she takes in a deep breath. "Ok, so Four man should be here in about 15 minutes, and I am stressing. I can't- I just… what if…" She lets out a groan. "I was just thinking about how he may be a lame ass jerk. Or a pretty pony prized to be. I don't know… this pressure is intense! I mean, c'mon now. Our career is on the line here! I don't know about you, but I am definitely gonna put this on my college application."

To be honest, Christina wasn't making any sense, but I just said, "I know."

She smiles, and says, "Alright, then. Let's get ready, folks!"

We all walk to the front of the school, which we find quite easy, since the halls are empty. I feel some more nervous excitement boiling up inside of me. I can't tell if it because of Four, or the caffeine.

"Wait." Annonces Al, who plants a hand on Christina's and my own shoulder. "Should we not just wait out in the hall for Four to come first? I mean, there's practically a mob of people out there, and I don't want to have to go out with them. I'm not much of a social butterfly."

I look at Al. He completely towers over me like a grizzly bear. His hair flops over his face in clunks like he hasn't washed it in a while. His big brown eyes are piercing, in a good way, unless he gives someone the death stare. Al is handsome, I guess. He probably had some girls on his tail. He wasn't exactly popular, though. I have never looked or really studied Al like this. He usually hanged with us (meaning Christina and I), but I wouldn't exactly call him my 'best friend'. I've only known him… what? A couple months... maybe a year?

Christina I have known ever since I was young. She lived across the street from me, a little to the left, to be exact, and she'd always knock on my door to ask if I could play. Soon, we became good friends. We don't play outside and go on our adventures anymore though. Sure, sometimes we will still skateboard, or climb our tree, also known as _The Tree_ , but usually, nowadays we were busy or acting to mature.

I am the first to speak. "Al's gotta point Chris. I mean, Four will already have enough people pestering him out there, right?"

Al smiles at me, as if his statement was a very important. I return the smile, and look to Christina, who says, "Alright, we'll wait." She smirks at me. "Chris? Is that a new nickname, or something?"

"It rhymes with Tris. We can be twinsies." I joke. "Also, I wasn't the one who came up with that nickname. I think you know who did." I wiggle my eyebrows.

Her face turns red. "How do you know about that?"

"A certain someone was talking about you, Chris." I laugh. Although she doesn't push anything, just stares at the ground, smiling. I know she probably wants to know what Will said, but I don't tell her. I want to see how long this, whatever _this_ is, will drag out.

A chorus of screams and 'OMG I LOVE YOU!' Comments come from outside, only signalling that Four must be here. I suppress a grin, and listen to the yells and chants.

Eventually, though, the bell rings, and we all need to get to class regardless of whatever or whoever is here, according to the loudspeaker. My first class in an AP calculus class.

As I walk to class, a swarm of girls go by me, all of which carry a… hat? Is that Fours hat? They all seem to be trying to latch onto it, and… _smell_ it. Gross. I ignore them and their stupid comments on the hat and enter my class.

I sit next to a boy named Micah in calculus, so I have a partner to work with, but today , he's not here. Maybe he is and is just chasing Four around the school. I think Micah is on the football team, so that explains it.

I just take my rightful seat and wait for class to end.

But it's not that simple. It's as if the universe doesn't want me to get some info on Four. Let alone be near him, because I don't see him after class in the hallway, or even at my second class. At lunch, I do see yet another mob of girls around something that may be him, but I really can't see.

"You have to try harder." Says Christina while we eat lunch.

"What?" I ask. She has probably picked up on my worry

"There is always going to be a group of people around him because he is so popular, and I bet you he is going to try his hardest to stay away from them. So you need to be ready at the exact moment when he is hiding, or something." She explains.

I take her knowledge with me, until school ends. I don't see him though, and start to get worried. If I don't have anything by the end of the day…

And then miraculously, he is right around the corner.

I don't know exactly how I find him, i'm not even trying. I just turn into a empty hallway trying to leave the back way of the school since the front of the school is contaminated with football players, and Four's there.

He's more surprised than me. I turn around the corner, and he has his hood on so I can't see his face. But I know it's him. My heart leaps at the sudden rush of energy. I straighten my body and smooth down my clothing, and then clear my throat.

He whirls around, a startled look on his face. I try to put on a smile, and hug my book bag close to my side, reaching slowly for the notebook. But I don't know what to say. I just stand there, frozen in the presence of practically a god.

He breaks the silence though. "What?"

I clear my throat again. "Hi… Four. I know you're popular and stuff, so I was wondering if you could answer-"

He growls-literally _growls_ \- like a tiger ready to pounce. "Great. I try to get away and see a stupid Junior girl. Leave me alone."

I blink once, then twice startled. Then angry. "Jeez, you would've thought they'd teach you at _least_ manners from where you come from."

He looks at me. His eyes are a dark blue, not light and happy like in the movie when he was deeply conflicted with love. "Manners? You try to have _manners_ when you get bombarded by jocks, annoying hot chicks and photos all freakin' day. You think I came here for that B.S.?" he literally spits it out, like the words are sour on his tongue.

I feel in a daze again. I made him angry, and probably should leave. He flips his hood on and turns around, so all I see is his back and the movement of his shoulders as he walks away.

Then, from behind me, I hear, "OMG! GUYS IT'S FOUR!"

I flip my head back to see a girl with brown hair, who looks around the corner and beckons for some more people to come. I turn back the Four, but he has already made his break around the other corner.

Then, their is a swarm of girls, at least 15 or 16, all waking my way. I panic a bit as they approach me.

"Where did Four go?"

"Did he leave?"

"I thought Four was here! He was supposed to sign my wrist!"

There is a bit more conflict, but I stop them. "Whoa, Whoa, Ladies! Uh… Four is.. Not here!"

"But I thought I saw him…" Says the girl with brown hair.

I shoot her a glare. "Yeah, stop jumping to conclusions. That was just _Al_ on his way home the back way since the front way is to packed to eat navigate through. Not Four. Not at all."

"Way to go, Becky!" Someone yells from the right. Their is a bit more grunts of 'stupid' and 'dangit' to the girl named Becky, who turns beet red and stares at the floor.

"But," I say, catching everyone's attention, "I do know where Four is."

They all start to look at me. I notice every girl in this crowd is pretty, and I can name at least one boy from this school who likes each one of them. I envy them, and their good looks. I tell myself though that I am not pretty. I am flat chested, pale, unhealthily skinny.

They all look at me for an answer. "He's at the front of the school." I make up the lame excuse to at least buy him his one way back door ticket out of here. "That's why there are so many people crowded everywhere there."

They all squeal, and turn around, running outside of the hall leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sigh.

I lean up against the wall to the right. He may be a jerk like Christina predicted, but… I don't know. I feel _bad_ for the guy. Although today pretty much proved something. He isn't some kind of cookie cutter actor with good looks and charm.

So, who is Four?

Who is Tobias Eaton?

 **Wooo hooo! FourTris finally! I know, I know, you guys are probably drooling for more FourTris, one of the main elements of divergent, and I am getting there! A lot more of that next chapter! =D**

 **Rate and review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Over the weekend, I feel unattached to reality. Although something amazing happens in peculier.

I wake up in the morning feeling oddly different, but mostly tired. Christina had dragged me to the football game the other day, and I noticed the significant amount of girls, and girls in particular that had suddenly found an interest in coming. But to their surprise, Four wasn't playing today. Either he declined their offer, or was just busy.

Christina cheered next to me at the top of her lungs, screaming along with the crowd. I resisted the urge to cover my ears with my hands. I didn't ever really join in with the crowd. It just wasn't my thing. Instead, I usually watched the game trying to tune out the cheers or read.

I groggily get out of bed, knowing that once i'm awake, it's almost impossible to get me to sleep again. I head to the bathroom, which is in between Caleb, my older brother, and my own room. I quickly strip down and apply some deodorant, because I know I must likely smell from last night, and throw on a t-shirt and some jeans. I look in the mirror at myself. My hair is right above my shoulders, and thin and choppy with some layers. It could be a boys haircut. I lazily brush it, and head downstairs.

My mom and brother are both in the kitchen. Caleb is eating at the counter while furiously writing down something in his notebook. His hair is unkempt, and he is still dressed in his pajamas.

"Good morning, Beatrice." My mother looks at me from the corner of her eye and smiles. She seems to be cooking eggs. "Hows my favorite writer? Was the game fun?"

"I'm fine mom. The game last night was tiring. I don't know why Christina drags me to it every Friday." I chuckle.

My mom laughs, and continues to make the eggs. It's Saturday mornings I love the most. My whole family is usually free during Saturday mornings and not out on business trips, or meetings, so we all have a family breakfast.

I hear my father stirring upstairs, his steps creaking the floorboards. Today was one of those days were we would be a family.

But unfortunately, not for me.

"Mom." I say. "I think I am going to the cafe."

"The one near riverside park?" She asks, frowning.

"Yea." I say. I feel the sudden urge to get a coffee and a bagel with cream cheese. "I'll be back for lunch."

"Meeting anyone in particular?" She raises an eyebrow at me.

"No." I shrug. "I just want to go."

She smiles, but barely this time. "Ok, I guess. Your father will be home all day today, but I have a business meeting with the CEO of the… just an important company."

I smile at her. My mom designs clothes which consist mostly are fancy attire. I have seen her work. It's amazing. Nothing I would really wear, but still awesome. I give my mom a quick kiss on the cheek and turn on my heels towards the door, first whacking Caleb upside the head. "Morning, fart breath."

"Hi, barracuda." He chants back.

After grabbing my back off the rack, I head outside, slinging my bag across my shoulder. I am instantly greeted with a gust of wind brushing my hair back. I hastily get in my truck, and drive to the cafe, feeling a bit jumpy.

* * *

The coffee shop is reluctantly a little empty. Just me and two other people probably needing to get a quick snack before they head off to work.

"May I please get a mocha and bagel please?" I ask the lady taking orders.

In a couple of minutes, I am sitting on what looks like a bar chair, closest to the huge window at the front of the shop and stare outside at the park. It's relaxing, some how. Some kids play on the field, all muddy and dirty from playing tag. I smile. The sight reminds me of a kid, when I was so reckless and carefree, usually playing with Susan and Christina, before Susan moved away. I sigh and take a sip from my mocha, slowly chewing on the front of my bagel with little nibbles.

The bell chimes to the right of me, meaning someone has entered. I don't look though. I stay fixated on the field.

"Coffee." Says a bland voice behind me. I don't turn to look though. His voice is rather masculine, deep and enchanting…

"Um...OK." Says the girl taking his order. "Would you-"

"Dark." He spits. "Nothing. Just dark."

"Okay then." Huffs the girl. "Name?"

"I'll be here waiting. No need for a name."

 _No need for a name?_

I turn to look at the man speaking in the conversation. I don't see his face, just the back of him. He wears a black pullover hoodie, with the hood on as if to hide his face.

The girl shakes her head, and says, "Don't I ever get any manners?"

The guy seems to twitch at the word. _Manners…_ Where have I heard that from?

He reaches for his back pocket, and pulls out a twenty and slaps it on the counter. The man then turns around, not waiting for his change, and starts to walk towards the back of the room where I am. I don't see his face that well, just some hair that pokes out of the top of his hood. He seems to spot me right away though. And he takes off his hood.

Its him.

I feel my breath get hitched. It's Four. At this Coffee shop.

I don't know what to do. I feel as if the universe has dumped their heavy burden on my and said "Let's see what happens now".

Although Four is not a burden. More of a masterpiece.

His facial expression is unreadable, he just stares at me. I don't know if he remembers me. I hope he doesn't. He may not hate me as much.

"Ok. Great. I just wanted a coffee, you know. I didn't want to get chased by the schools lame excuse for a paparazzi." He yaps it, sounding annoyed. Yep, he definitely remembered me.

I study his face. His defined jawline, hooked nose, the way his ears stick out a bit. I don't know if I should just act natural, or bossy, or show show the journalist side of myself.

Instead, I just grunt.

"I'm not in school, am I?" I take another sip of my drink. "I'm on my break, leave me alone."

Four seems to be taken back by the comment. I shouldn't be talking to him this way. Four was the god of Witherstone high at the moment, probably for his acting skill or his masculinity. God of his fans. It isn't all the time that a 'fan' like myself suddenly comes out and tells him to leave them alone. That's usually him, telling his fans to "Piss off". I guess he is not used to it. His instantly changes his expression back to it's plain state.

"You're not going to interview me?" He asks, still sounding uncertain, though his voice portraits no uncertainty whats-so-ever.

"No." I say, tucking my hair behind my ear, and then turning back into the position I was in before to stare out the window at the green fields, and the little kids running with joy, tumbling down the hills, chasing each other, having genuine fun. I know I should do my job as a good journalist, and chase his down with questions, but why bother when he can be such an-for lack of better word-ass?

I stay like this for a minute or so, then, I feel a body sit next to me, its shoulder brushing my own. I follow the line of this person's shoulder, up his chest, and neck, until I finally reach his face. I am greeted by a face shadowed by a hood, dark brown hair poking out. I wouldn't be able to see whoever it was if they didn't sit so close. Now, I am met with deep blue eyes.

"Yes?" I ask, trying to sound normal. I am very aware of how much space is in between us. Six inches, at most. The space feels charged with electricity. Probably because I am in the presence of a very, very, _very_ hot guy. Doesn't he hate me? Why is he here?

"Well," he clears his throat. "Since you are not going to interview me, I figured I sit next to you." He chuckles. "Anyone else I'd sit next to would bomb me with questions."

I look down at my bagel. It's like he was throwing himself at me and didn't realize it. He had instantly changed his mood from 'grumpy' to his 'fine' state. Now was my chance to get as much as I can out of him and add it to the article we would write. It was perfect. I could hear Christina's voice in my head, urging me to ask anything I could think of.

In a friendly manner, of course.

I take another small bite from my bagel. It fills me with bliss. I just can't get over the fact that sitting next to me is the all time famous super star Four. It makes me feel uneasy… in a good or bad way, I can't tell.

"So..." I say, then immediately regret. So? _So?_ I had to up my game!

I can feel Four's eyes on me, but I pretend not to notice their gleaming stare. "You know," he says, after some time, "I thought you would interview me, and try to get close to me at any risk like everyone else when I first met you, but now, your very different from other people. Your actually treating me like a normal person. And you don't seem content with harassing me with questions."

That throws a wrench in my strategy. This is probably the most I have ever hear him say (other than the movie I watched of him), and he was being nice. Plus, he liked it when I didn't ask any questions… So I can't just start asking him questions randomly now. I curse myself out in my head for taking to long. I decide to start simple, like it is a conversation. Then maybe ease back into the questions.

"All I am doing is being silent." I say. "How else would I treat you?"

"Heavenly." He shrugs. "Extremely hot."

I laugh. An actual, genuine, laugh. I feel as if this is just plain normal. This is a normal conversation, with normal people, not anyone special like an actor who has fame and fortune. I look back up at him. He looks normal, as well, laughing along with me. He could easily be mistaken for no one. I realize I have been staring too long.

"Yes?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

I blink. "Oh.. Sorry. I was just-"

"Um… Dark coffee? No name? Anyone?" Asks another lady up at the desk, holding a steaming hot drink.

"And, that's my cue." Says Four, who starts to rise up next to me to retrieve his drink. "I guess I will see you again soon, if you come here as often as I may think."

I nod. "I come here quite often."

"I like this place. I bet you you will see me coming again." He nods back at me. "'Till we meet again, coffee shop girl."

I smile at him, hoping that the blush rising in my cheeks doesn't show. For a second, he sounds like a regular kid, a friend. Maybe he doesn't hate me anymore and think of me as some type of annoying interviewer. I mean, he even has a nickname for me already.

And with that, he takes his coffee, flips on his hood, and leaves. The coffee shop bell rings at his departure.

I guess getting some information on him wouldn't be as hard as I thought.

Maybe there's a whole new side of him waiting to be discovered.

I sigh, and take another bite of my now cold bagel.

* * *

The next day, I spring out of bed, giddy and full of joy. I know, as a fact, that Four, Tobias Eaton, whatever, will be at that very coffee shop. My very favorite coffee shop.

Yesterday, I ended up leaving the coffee shop later than I should have, already happy, waiting for the next day. I don't know what has gotten into me, I just feel on edge with a feeling of something pure swimming inside me. I had gone home, and started to write a whole new story. First, though, I wrote the all the details about Four I had learned (figuring Christina, Al, and the rest of the journalist club to would've wanted me to, anyway) even though it wasn't much, just his new favorite coffee shop and his attitude. Then just wrote and drew mindless things from my imagination. Even my dad noticed my happiness and state of not really being with reality.

"Beatrice," he had said. "I called you to come down for dinner five times."

"Sorry, dad." I had replied.

He chuckled. "What has gotten into you, young lady?"

I pull out my dresser, determined to look nice. I end up with a red denim shirt, and blue jeans, brushing my hair thoroughly before clipping it back with some pins I find. I take one look at myself in the mirror, feeling kind of foolish for dressing sort of fancy. It's just Four. Well, Four the superstar.

I rush down the stairs into the kitchen to be greeted with my mother, who looks annoyed. I decide not to say anything, as she paddles around the kitchen, frowning, and ruffling through things, as if she is looking for something.

"Looking for the car keys?" I ask, while I pour myself some water.

"No." She mumbles. "Only looking for… Ah!"

I look over at the floor, hidden beneath some of her work papers, which is an envelope. She picks it up, slings her bag across her shoulder, and places a chaste kiss on my temple.

"Going for work." She announces. "I will be back soon. Oh, and don't forget to tell Caleb to feed Ginny!"

Ginny was Caleb's hamster. He got her a long time ago, when she was full of light and happiness. Now, she's a fat, old, thing that hobbles around in her cage, refusing to get washed or held too long.

"Ok." I say, although I think that Ginny has enough fat to last her through the whole rest of the year.

She leaves with a loud closed door, and I watch her out the window until she drives away. And then, my mind wanders as I sit on the sofa in the living room, but eventually, I end up thinking about Four.

I don't know why I think of him, maybe because the information I have about him is not enough. I plan to leave to the coffee shop soon, thinking he will be their. I run to the door and snatch my bag off the ground, slinging it across my body. I really need to stop over analyzing thoughts in my head.

Before I leave, I take one last look in the mirror at myself thinking to see some confident beautiful being standing before me, but when I do see myself, something deflates inside of me that I don't understand.

I realize I am not pretty, I am not desirable, I have to curves, and without makeup, I look like a 12 year old. He won't come back to the coffee shop to see me. He was just probably being nice to me. Why would I think that a star like him would want to meet me.

I then realized that I had everything planned out in my head, and this morning went by so fast because all I thought was that everything was going to be perfect just like in my head, that I didn't even think that maybe he wasn't going to come. I was too busy getting ready. I mean, he didn't even say he was going to came, right?

I sigh, and head back to the hallway and take off my bag, resting it down carefully on the rack. My fingers fly up to my temple to massage it, and I think of myself to be foolish and stupid. How could I let my mind be like this? So… not… me. I slowly walk back up to my room, and thrust myself at my bed.

I close my eyes. He wouldn't come. Why was I so pumped about his arrival at the cafe?

I try to find out why I feel this way, why I am acting so… strange.

I dig deep trying to find answers. Yet I find none.

 **Did you see my multiple references to divergent? =) I want to get 3 more reviews before continuing! Please let me know!**

 **Peace & love**

 **~Sky**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you soooo much everyone who has been reviewing and liking! I really appreciate it, and will be continuing. Can we get 3 more reviews please? O btw, I am sorry for any mistakes in grammar or punctuation. Extra long chapter! (I think. It's hard to tell because it comes out in a different layout here than it is in the fanfic website).**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent**

 **Chapter 5**

In the loud and crowded hallways of high school, I battled my way to the locker. Only to find Al standing next to it. Usually, I'd see Christina, not Al. His appearance surprises me.

"Yes?" I say, as I click my locker open.

"Oh, hey Tris." He replies. "I was just waiting for you." He lifts himself from where he is leaning over the locker.

I raise my eyebrows, causing him to laugh. "Not in that way, no. It's just, I've known Christina for a year, and I would hang out with her if I could find her… but I can't." He shrugs. "Then I realized that I didn't really know much about you. So since Chris isn't here yet, I'll get to know you better."

"Uh… okay." I say, dumping some books in my locker. This was weird. For me, and for Al.

"So…" He says, "got any info on Four?"

I figured he'd say that. We don't talk much, but when we do talk, it's usually about journalism. And the hottest topic right now just happens to be Four.

Thinking of his name somehow leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. So, I decide to lie. "No, not yet." I add, "Please don't rat me out to Christina."

He nods. "I won't. She's a good friend, but can be bossy and demanding sometimes."

"Do you like her?" I ask it casually, trying not to startle him, and I close my locker shut.

"Oh, no. She's got a thing for Will." He sighs, and shrugs. "Besides, I like another girl."

I would ask about the girl he likes, being my curious self, but I am more attracted to the fact that he knows that Christina likes Will. She doesn't tell that information to many people. Heck, she's only told her crush to me. Christina must really trust the guy if she told him her crush.

I nod at him, then tune him out to observe the area. The hallway is always crowded, because it's a public high school, yet for some reason, it's not as crowded as it should be. And people look distressed. I realize that Four isn't here. He isn't anywhere. He would've had a group of people surrounding him. Actually, the whole school would be surrounding him. I can sense people's unease. Where could the superstar possibly be?

I shrug it off. He's a busy guy! He has things to do. Why do I care?

"C'mon." I say to Al. "I have to get to class, and I am guessing you do, to."

He just nods at me, and starts to walk in the direction of his class. I do the same, Four still in the back of my mind. I scoff. Why the hell am I thinking of him?

I make it to class, and take my rightful spot at the back of the class. Our teacher was cool in letting us pick our seats. I ease into my chair.

"Alright, class!" Says the teacher, Mrs. Jenkins, as soon as the bell rings. "We have a very special assignment today! You will be pairing with the person next to you for a project on-"

 _Blah, blah, blah._ I tune her out and stare out the window. The perks of this class are the big windows. If you look outside them, you can practically see every bit of the school to the very left side. The large staircase, the green lawn out front, the school's drop off area out front,, a boy with a hood walking into school late…

Wait, a boy with a hood coming into school _late_?

I make sure the teacher isn't watching, and I lean in closer to the window. Is that… Four? The hoodie, the mysterious state, it has to be him. No wonder anyone could find him. He hastily walks up the stairs. Some girls out front who decided to skip class start to squeal, and approach him. Oh yea, that is _definitely_ him.

"Mrs. Prior? Mrs. Prior!" Says Mrs. Jenkins, with a raised voice. I snap out of my state and stare up at her. My face heats up as I hear some snickers from the back of the class.

"Pay attention, please." She gives me one last look, then turns back to the board.

I turn my body back to the bored and face her notes. Micah nudges me with his elbow. I didn't know he was there, and didn't see him come into class at all. How badly was I daydreaming? "Hey, Tris." He whispers to me, "Looks like we are paired for some stupid history project. Yay"

I sigh, and try to pay attention.

* * *

He does it again.

Again..

I don't know how I'll be nice.

I was walking down the hall. Usually, I'd look for Christina, but she is apparently sick today, and stayed home. I don't mind it, but we have journalist club after school, and without her… it seems a bit weird, I suppose. She has become our leader in a way. I found that I am furious of that. We will be fine without her, why were we worrying? I huff, and walk faster along the deserted hallway. It's lunch already, and I wouldn't want to make Al wait.

"Hey, uh, girl!" I hear a voice behind me, distinctly male. Are they calling for me? Nonsense. I don't have many male friends, except Al, and that voice didn't belong to him.. Not being sexist, but boys just never liked my tom-boy self or my stubborn attitude to much. I didn't know how Christina put up with me.

"Blue sweater? Yea! With… blond hair?"

I have on a blue sweater, and blond hair, but there are plenty other girls with blue sweaters' and blond hair. _I don't know this guy. He's not calling me… is he?_

"Uh… Hey! Coffee shop girl!"

At this, I stop in my tracks. _No way, not again, not…_

I turn slowly, and am met with a familiar set of striking blue eyes. Four.

My breath hitches. "Hi." I manage. Why does this always happen to me?

He smiles at me, and he looks as charming as he did in his movie. "Hi there."

I look at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. He eyes me up and down. I turn my head to the left and look to the floor, blushing. I have the no good looks or beauty. Boy, I really had the body of a 12 year old. Why was Four looking at me? Calling me? Why did he care?

"Yes?" I say. It's not always that a superstar is willing to speak to me, especially a star as stubborn as Four. This is very very weird.

"Oh, uh…" he clears his throat, "I was wondering where you were. Yesterday, I mean. I was waiting for you at the coffee house- er- shop."

I look at him, wide eyed. So he _was_ waiting for me! He was at the coffee shop, and I could've gone to see him.

"I… Um… Well I didn't expect you, to be there. I mean, why would a superstar take interest in me?" I wince, realizing that I sounded like any other fangirl at this school who tries to spend anytime they can with Four. I don't tell him that I was planning to go to meet him. "Besides, I don't go everyday to the coffee shop."

He looks at me again. And then laughs. "Your like, the only person in this whole school that treats me normally, and that's why I hang with you, junior. Why I want to, anyway. Except for Zeke. I mean, he was actually surprised at first too, when I started to hang with him, and he invited me to his bash in a couple of months," he shrugs. "I guess you were a bit crazed when you met me to, trying to interview me, and such.

I nod, the corner of my lips twitching into a smile. I didn't realize he was much of a talker, or he was this nice. "Yea, ok. I guess…"

He scratches the back of his neck. "See you tomorrow? At the coffee shop?"

"Sure." I say without thinking.

He smiles, and walks away.

I can't believe that just happened.

A couples days a go, he hated me. Now he has a sudden interest in me because I treat him normally?

I feel bad, because I don't treat him normally. I won't treat him normally after he finds out how I am using him almost.

I sigh, and walk to the lunch room.

I can't believe that Four, the one and only, wants me to go with him, out of everyone in the whole school he could choose, he chose me.

I realize that Four must be very much overlooked and very much not treated normally. No wonder he hung out with some one as lame as me. He probably doesn't have many _real_ friends. And he thought I was a friend.

Was I a friend?

* * *

"Okay, he was in 23 movies, the majority of their genre's either being comedy or romance… Let's get the most recent movies and get some info on them, agreed?"

The fellow journalist club members nod their heads. There was only about 5 of us today, and Christina wasn't here, so I decided to take charge.

We were starting off simple. Getting the most popular movies by him, and the most recent, and writing each week's paper on one individual movie until the time had come to write the final article. I don't know how Four would take it. I do know for a fact that we won't need to pass out the extra papers any more. Hell, we probably would have to print some more out for the people who didn't get a paper.

"How about we start with the movie…" Al puckers his lips. "Um… OH! I know! Let's do the movie _Something about you_ **(AN. I completely made this movie name up rn, so if it is already taken as a movie name, I am sorry. Please overlook that)**. It's about a girl-Andi-who has lost her parents, and is met by Four, or Samuel, as his stage name is, and they go on a trip in some really cool funky looking car… and end up falling in love."

I nod. Some stupid, typical love story. Probably rated R, for extra explicit content, if you know what I mean…

"I'll watch it tonight, I guess." I volunteer. "I have nothing better to do. I'll take notes as well."

"Ok," says Al. "Anyone else-"

"I've watched that movie with my girlfriends!" Squeals Amanda, one of the reporters. I bet you she has a crush on Four. I mean, these days, who wouldn't.

"There is a smokin' hot scene where-"

"Amanda. That's enough." Scolds Al. "I guess you all are dismissed. Tris," he nods to me, than leaves the room, people filing out behind him.

* * *

I walk into the coffee shop, making the bell at the top of the door ring like crazy. I don't look to see if he's there, I just walk to the counter-top, and order a hot chocolate with a vanilla scone.

I pay quickly, and go to the back of the room near the window to my regular spot. I am met with a man's back. He wears a very dark grey pull over hoodie and a baseball cap.

I stand next to him, and joke, "I'm very sorry, sir, but I am afraid that you have taken my spot."

I see the side of his face-was his nose always hooked at the bottom?- as a smile appears on his lips. "I didn't know that there was rightful spots, miss. I greatly apologize." He takes a sip from his coffee.

I laugh, and am careful not to brush shoulders with him while I slide into the seat next to him, not knowing if he likes physical contact. I don't even know where all this courage of mine came from to sit so close and speak to him this way. Inside I had the guts, I guess.

He takes another sip of his coffee, and we sit in comfortable silence for a while, until he startles me by saying, "So, let's start." He faces me. I notice that even when I am sitting down and he is to that I am still shorter than him. His beautiful blue eyes shine out of the rim of the baseball hat.

"Start…?" I ask.

"Well," he states, "for starters, I don't even know your name, coffee shop girl."

I look at him. "Tris." I say, searching his eyes for a response.

"Your full name. Like, full, _full,_ name."

I chuckle. "Beatrice Prior."

"Beatrice? Sounds like a dogs name." He says, and I glare at him with anger. He raises his hands in defense, and adds. " Sorry, sorry. I am Four, nice to meet you."

I stare at him. "Okay then, Four, whose name I totally didn't know." I roll my eyes. "Let's play 20 questions, I suppose. That way we can get to know each other more easily." _And I can get some more info for the paper._

He shrugs, not making much out of it. Once my name is called for me to pick up my order of hot chocolate and the scone, we start.

"I go first." He says, smirking. "Um.. okay. What's your favorite color?"

I didn't really expect that. "Green. What's your's?"

"It's not black, surprisingly. I just wear these dull colors so I don't stand out to any… _crazed_ fan." He smiles. "It's blue, actually. Navy blue."

"I don't think I can picture you in any light color, like orange or pink." I say truthfully. "Ok, my go. What-"

"Nope," he says, "It's my go. You asked me already what my favorite color is." I grunt out of my stupidity, and he just gives me a lopsided grin. "Have you seen any of my movies?"

I hesitate. What will he think if I told him I did watch two movie of his? "Um… well, I've seen two of your movies, but it was mainly for journalism group project stuff," I wince at the last sentence. I hope he doesn't think I am just here to get information on him, and not be a supporting friend.

He doesn't seem to notice, though. "Which ones?"

" _Something about you_ and _Our Summer Love_." **(AN Also, made this up on the spot. Idk if it's an actually movie title… so yea)**

"Ah." He says, scratching behind his ear. "Those are not particularly my favorite movies…"

"Why?" I ask, being nosy as always.

"Well…" he stutters, "the plots are too cheesy and cliche. Besides, some of the female actors my age that I had to work with are… not very sanitary, I guess. And they all seemed to have the need to get into my pants." He sighs at his comment.

"Oh." Is all I say. I take a mental note of this, knowing it will come in handy later. I can ask more about it later, and it will be crucial for the paper. I can already see. Though, I didn't know that female actresses where like how Four explained them.

"Yea.. whatever. It is what it is." He sighs. I wonder how many actors and actresses are like Four say things as serious as this like it doesn't matter. "Anyways, your turn, Mrs. Prior."

I smirk. "It's just Tris, Mr. Four. When did you start acting?"

"Back at it again with my acting life?" He cocks his eyebrow. "I think I was thirteen or fourteen when my dad realized my ability to cope with that kind of stuff." He shrugs. I want to ask more on his parents, because the media seems to not really have information on that stuff. Maybe that's his big secret that I will find out. But it's not my place to ask about these things yet. I will eventually.

I take a sip of my hot chocolate and stare out the window. The rest of Tuesday consists of questions, answers, and some very embarrassing stories.

Lets just say that I got a bunch of information all in my head, just waiting to be written down in the book all about Tobias Eaton.

 **I know, I know. What Tris is doing seems evil. But don't worry, she'll realize it.**

 **Or will she? *cue dramatic music***

 **Thank you guys so much for the reviews! I know it's not a lot but I very much appreciate all the support! I will be planning on doing the story on Four's POV later on when I chose it is the right time. For now, just sit back and listen to Tris's blabbering =)**

 **Ok, bye! Sorry for speaking so much =P**


	6. Chapter 6

**I know, 2 updates in a week. It's just that I'm on break so…**

 **Chapter 6**

It's been a month now. Chris has finally 'healed' from her cold. We are one month closer publishing the article, and the thought is crazing me with energy.

We have written a lot about Four in the weekly paper, and thankfully, I don't think he gets them. Everyone else does. We don't have to worry anymore about getting rid of the last bits of the schools paper because everyone wanted to know the latest gossip on Four, or as Christina would say.

People have seemed to flare down a bit about Four's arrival though. In other words, it's old news. People still cord around him, yes. Although him and I have made it an occasion to meet each other at the coffee shop every Tuesday and Thursday, him in his pull over hoodie and baseball cap, me in my worn-out school clothes and tattered tennis shoes. I have managed to get to know him better. We don't have any classes together unfortunately, and we don't really hang out in school, so no one knows about our 'relationship'. Trust me, if Christina did, I think she would beat the living crap out of me for 1: Not telling her about it, and 2: Not getting enough information, although I do have a fair amount of it stashed in the leather notebook sitting on my desk at home that I bring with me to the shop and pretend to write down story ideas, when really, I write down stuff he says.

Today was Thursday, and I was expected to meet Four at the coffee shop like always without anyone knowing, yet Christina was on my case.

"Where the hell do you go these days, anyway?" She says. "Ooooh, did Trissy-poo finally score a boy?"

I scowl at her. "Did Will realize your unyielding love for him?"

She scowls back, "Touche, idiot."

I laugh, and pull myself out of my chair to get ready to leave, slinging my bag over my shoulder. We were currently at my house. Chris had come and stopped by just to drop of some journalism stuff, and we ended up in my room talking about pointless things, like shopping, and boys. Okay, she did most the taking, but I didn't mind.

"I have to go. See you later?"

"Ttyl." She says. She always uses these stupid abbreviations these days. "Oh, did you get any info on Four? The guys so closed off! All I got was some stupid fact about some rumor about him changing with the window open and-"

"Have you been stalking him?" I raise an eyebrow.

"No!" She claims. "I've just been extra productive. Unlike you." She rolls her eyes. "Bye, Tris."

Little did she know that I was starting to peel back the layers of Four. And we have formed an odd and unusual friendship.

"Bye, Christina."

* * *

On my way to the coffee shop, I find it weird that Four and I have been doing this for so long. I can't believe that someone as popular as him takes time out of his days to come and see me, a nobody. I suppose to him a play a good friend whom he can unwind and talk to.

I walk into the store, not looking to see if Four is their. I just listen to the beautiful sound of the bell chiming in my ear. I walk up the counter, and order a drink.

Four and I haven't been doing this for a full month, maybe a couple weeks, since he came in the middle of November. Besides, since it's December now, the weather has gotten cooler, and I know the snow will be appearing harder than normal. The only time we didn't have snowfall was between May and September. **(AN THIS IS CHICAGO!)**

I sit in our normal spot, staring at the hills. Bits of snowfall come down, and I smile when I see two little kids frolicking and having fun.

I hear the bell chime again, knowing it must be Four, and I wait for him to order so I can hear his masculine, deep voice again.

But I don't. Instead, all I feel is a body sitting next to me. I look abruptly to see him, wearing a long brown winter coat buttoned to his neck that drapes down all the way to the floor, covering anything else he wore, and a grey beanie shadowed above his eyebrows. The beanie suited him, a little bit of his hair sticking out of it at the front. It wasn't fully on, sagging a little at the back.

"Hi." I say. I can talk to him normally now knowing that he thinks I treat him differently and we are 'friends'. Besides, most people don't identify him as his true star self because he is always hidden by hats and baggy sweaters. Now, though, he does look like someone important dressed all fancy.

"Hi, sorry I'm late. I just had a winter… photoshoot." He says, with a hint of dissatisfaction. I laugh at the thought, and take another sip of my drink.

"Are you gonna order anything?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Nah, they serve a bunch of crap there."

"You still came here, though?"

"I couldn't leave you hanging, could I?"

I feel flustered, although I don't know why. Were just friends. I'm just this extremely handsome guys' friend.

"Ok." I say.

"I kind of snuck here." He fidgets. "I… they… didn't really see me, hopefully. I usually have to do that, I mean. Sneak away from the paparazzi and fangirls. But it's worth it."

I wonder why he does that. Just for me, too.

"Ok." I repeat. "Um… what do you want to do?"

"Normal." He says, relaxing a bit. And I do the same. We usually just asked each other unpractical and random questions.

"Why are you dressed like that?" The comment slips my mouth before I have time to register it.

"Oh. Well, I look hot in something other than a sweater and a baseball cap, eh?" He smirks, sounding like any other stuck up, hormonal teenage boy, and I let out a nervous laugh, heat rising to my cheeks, because I do find him hot.

Wait, _what?_

Did I really just think that?

Did I call Four, my _friend_ , hot?

He's my friend! My friend. F-R-I-E-N-D.

My really hot and popular friend.

I shake my head. Stop.

"Anyway," he continues, "I had to get dressed for the photoshoot, and I had no time to change. The ladies aren't complaining, though."

"Ah." I say.

He laughs, then, his gaze softens. "Look. I know we've been doing this for a while, and it's kind of late saying this know, but thank you." He takes a breath. "Thank you for being a good friend. Lately, things have been stressing and hard lately, and you were a good supporter. Damn, I sound stupid, but yea. You have treated me normally, and I really appreciate it. That's why I like doing this so often. Us, I mean."

My heart pulses. I force it to calm down. "It's what you deserve to be treated like, Four. Now shut up, and act like a normal friend. Stop saying how 'normal' I am." I smile, and he smiles back. But then, suddenly, his face turns white like the living day-light has been sucked out of him.

"What?" I follow his gaze to the window next to the parking lot on the side of the coffee shop where I parked. I am greeted with a black van. People unload the car, looking frantic and excited, all dressed in black, men and women alike, holding camera's. "What's-"

Before I know what's happening, I feel a big hand being wrapped around my wrist, yanking me to the side. I let out a small yelp because his grip is tight, and the sudden jerk surprises me, but he doesn't let go. Instead, he drags me to the exit at the back of the shop, leading me outside. I am aware of the stares the cashier girl gives us.

"Four?" I ask. "Four? Whats going on? Four!"

He stops in his tracks and puts his hand over my mouth, shutting me up. Electricity and nervousness shoots through me at his touch.

"Please." He says. "It's the paparazzi." His breath hitches, and he releases his hand from my mouth. "Act natural."

He disregards his jacket, tossing it to the floor and kicking it in some bush at the side of the shop to much of my surprise. Underneath, he wears a tight white button up shirt tucked into his black jeans. He rolls up his sleeves midway, and I see how define his muscles look. He does have a really nice body. I try not to stare.

He starts to lead me to the front of the coffee shop.

"Four?" I whisper. "Your leading us to where the paparazzi is!"

"Play along." He just says.

"What about my car?" I ask.

"We'll deal with that later!"

We turn the corner to the parking lot, and I see the van. A man holding a camera turns his gaze to us. I gulp in a breath.

Then, before I know what's happening, Four whips around, pulling his beanie farther on his head. Then much to my surprise, he holds my face in place and smashes his lips to mine.

I'm too surprised to react. Did Four just _kiss_ me?

I feel something stirring in my chest I can't identify. He leans back, scanning my eyes, and I look back, widening my own eyes out of surprise. And the he does it again, this time more passionately. I start to realize what he's doing, and slowly kiss back.

Just a normal couple, kissing. Not a superstar boy making out with a complete stranger.

He begins to back up to his car, leading me with him. It's parked three spots from the black van. Thankfully, the paparazzi doesn't see identify him, because all they see is my side, and most of his face is covered by me or his beanie. I am still kissing Four, and they turn into fast, vigorous kisses. I know it's all an act, and I try to make it seem most realistic as possible even if it's fake. It feels so real though. His lips on mine. I feel my cheeks warm up by his touch. His tongue glides across my lip, and I shiver.

We arrive at his car, a BMW, nothing fancy, and I turn, flipping the door open and launching myself into the passenger seat, him following my actions quickly. He starts the engine, not bothering to buckle his seatbelt, it fires up, and we have no trouble quickly speeding out of the parking lot.

After I regain composure, my lips tingle from the long kiss. I feel a rush of energy. I was just kissed by a boy. This is the first time. Only, I realize that this wasn't a normal boy that kissed me. It was Four. It was freaking Tobias Eaton.

And I kissed him.

After moments of driving in his car, I take in the awkward smell of pine that his car oddly smells like. Than, without thinking, I smack his arm while driving.

 _Hard_

"Ow." he complains, wincing.

"What the hell?!" I practically yell.

"What?" He asks.

"Don't play that bull crap, Four! You know what!"

"Sorry!" He screams, "I just needed a distraction!"

"Kissing me was a distraction?"

He angrily rips of his beanie and throws it to the back seat. His hair was a very dark brown that you could see it you looked close enough. It was shortly cut, yet disheveled. Handsome, I suppose. "What was I supposed to do?! I was panicked!" His face was red, and blotchy.

"Why the heck were they even there?" I say, angry.

He scrunches his nose. "I don't know. I think they followed me after I 'ran away'." He shrugs, his eyes not moving from the road, his face staying it's reddish color.

"They knew what I was wearing, so I took of the jacket." He points out, "and the kiss was a distraction, because they know that I'm dating a brunette, not a blonde! I put it together, and know we're safe, alright?"

Silence.

"Plus," he says, breaking the silence, "they didn't see me, and, thankfully, didn't snap any pictures."

I'm slightly angry. Is he embarrassed to be seen with me?

Wait. Of course he is. I'm a nobody. That kiss didn't mean anything. Maybe I liked it, maybe I felt something, but of course he didn't. Because he is a superstar, and he can have anyone he wants. And he wouldn't want me. That would be his girlfriend I didn't know he had. Pain clutches my stomach, but ignore it. Why would I be feeling pain, anyway? I shouldn't be feeling pain.

I look out the window, as the first bits of snow make their appearance, and land by the window, my anger subsiding. He's a good driver, I note. I've never been in the same car as him. Only the same coffee shop room. I guess it's the same thing, only know I am trusting him with my life.

We stop at a red light, and he looks at me, his face no longer it's red color. I look back at his eyes. Oh boy, his eyes. I can feel them pulling me into them. I so desperately want to tune everything out and look in his eyes.

"Look, Tris," he starts. "I'm sorry, I truly am really, dreadfully sorry. I didn't mean to kiss you. I just needed to get away and-"

"It's fine." I snap, a little harsher than I intended.

"Please don't be mad at me. I don't have anyone like you." He pleads.

I ignore him. I feel bad though. I was his stress reliever, his friend, and as much as I hated to admit it, I was this superstars friend. And he didn't know about me just using him for information.

But I realized, I wasn't just using him for info. I started to believe, to tell myself, that we were friends. And maybe we were.

I sigh, and grab the aux cord connected to his radio station, and pull out my phone, connecting the two. I need a distraction. I need music.

"What are you-"

I don't look up from my phone inches from my eyes, illuminating my face. I just reach out my finger tips and lightly press them to his lips to shush him. His soft lips, that I kissed…

My lips tingle again, remembering his kiss, and I try not to wince. He's a good kisser…

That was fake. _Fake._ Stop being so hung up about it. He probaly got his kissing skills from his _million other girlfriends._

I remove my fingers, picking a song I like. The song fills the car, and I lean back into the seat. The lyrics begin.

 _All I want Is nothing more._

I close my eyes, tapping my fingers on the window.

 _To hear you knocking at my door_

I don't pay attention to Four, or open my eyes to his weird face that he probably shows.

 _Cause if I could see your face once more_

I part my lips, and breath slower, relaxing into the chair some more, sinking out of reality, as the car moved forward, soothing me.

 _I could die a happy man, i'm sure_

I smile, remembering the happy memories this song brought me.

"Tris."

I look at Four, pulling myself out of the deep of the comfortable silence.

"I'm sorry." He breaths in.

"Four." I say, speaking softly. "It's fine. I just overreacted."

"No, you didn't. I was the one who made it worse. I'm sorry."

I smile at his awkwardness. "Were still friends, superstar, whether you like it or not. You can't get rid of me that easily." I am surprised I say this. Coming from my own mouth… it sounds natural. I guess I accepted this a long time ago.

He grins, looking like a cheeky monkey. I swear his looks down at my lips like he want to kiss me again, but I suppose a girl can dream. "Good. C'mon, let's… do something. Hopefully the paparazzi don't realize that this beat up car is mine."

"Oh. Why do you have this car anyway?" I say, drowning the music off.

"Trust me, my babies are at home." He smiles wider, referring to his cars as babies, while rubbing his hand on his chin as if to check his shaving job. "This is just a backup car. You see, no one would've thought that someone as popular and good looking as me would own this piece of crap." I roll my eyes, smiling, because he has a good point.

"Can I ask you something?" He asks.

"Shoot." I say.

"What do you write about? In your notebook and in journalism club, I mean."

I freeze. Darn. I'm gonna have to play this cool so he doesn't think that I use him for his wealth in information.

"In my notebook, well, just stories I make up really," I bite the inside of my cheek because of my lie, feeling guilty, "… and journalism club...Well, at the moment, our papers we've been writing have been about you."

"Me, eh?" He grins again. "What about me?"

"You changing in your house with the window open for all of us to see." I say, thinking back to Christina.

"WHAT?" He yells, certainly surprised.

"It gets great reviews! We don't have any extra paper wasted, either!"

"I only did that once! What the hell!" He looks distressed, and I laugh. "What, Tris? Where you the one who got that information?" He smirks, and I blush, beet red. Now it's his turn to laugh, and I hesitantly push him at first, then more surely.

"Shut up!" I say.

"How were my abs?"

I stick my tongue out at him. "You remind me of my annoying brother."

"You think if me as a brother?" He asks.

"No." I say, a bit confused by the question "Just that you're immature like him."

"Ok, good." _What does that mean?_ "And hey, you can be immature to, you know."

"Can't deny." I say, frowning. I guess we learned more about each other more than we thought.

"Uh.. Tris?" He says after a while.

"Yea?"

"Where am I going?"

"I don't know." I say. We were too busy taking that we didn't even realize that we were driving still.

"Give me your address, I'll drive you home, I guess." He says.

I give it to him, although I just want to talk to him some more. I feel like I got to know him better today than any other day. Sadly, we arrive at my house before you know it.

"Nice house." He says. I bet you it's not the house that he is used to. Probably nothing like it, with him and his big mansions, but a home was a home. And he actually seemed genuinely happy, like he liked my house.

"Thanks. I guess I'll see you next Tuesday?" I ask.

"Or earlier." He winks at me. I roll my eyes.

"Bye, Four."

"By, Tris."

I walk into my house, and don't bother to see if anyone is home or not. I just go to my room, a feeling I can't identify creeping up my back. I smile, and jump onto my bed, not wanting to move, just to lie here and let the feeling of happiness overpopulate me, until eventually, I fall asleep with one thought on my mind:

Tobias Eaton and I were friends.

And it didn't matter what anyone thought.

 **SO THEY KISSED! Well, sorta =)**

 **I updated because I am bored and it's the middle of my spring break! It's soon to end *sadness* the break I mean, not this story! I might even update again today and tomorrow =) *zips lips* im not promising anything though**

 **Do you guys think I am going to fast? Please tell me!**

 **Anyway, please review!**

 **~Sky**


	7. Chapter 7

**I decided to update since things get a bit… tense in this chapter =)**

 **Warning: Longest chapter I have ever written up ahead**

 **Chapter 7**

I'll find someone.

I will.

I come to school to see Will making out with Christina right smack in front of the school in the snow. Will leaning in, pressing her against the brick wall, his hands around her waist. Christina, or shall I say _Chris_ , drapes her arms around his neck. Both of their eyes are closed, and neither of them pull away. Even when I come close, so close it's kind of funny that they don't see me.

"Ahem." I smile to myself, knowing i'm interrupting their 'moment'.

But I don't really care.

Will whips around, eyes wide, hair ruffled, cheeks red. He keeps his hands on Christina, and Christina keeps her hands on him. I slowly shift my head to look at Christina, and raise an eyebrow. She shrugs, blushing deeply, and says sheepishly "Things happen."

I begin to break out laughing, clutching my stomach, and pulling my head back. I hear Will and Christina nervously join in.

"When did this happen?" I ask, while rubbing the tears out of my eyes.

"Well, yesterday I guess." Christina shrugs. "It kinds just… ended up this way."

"Yea." Will looks back at Christina, right in her eyes. "It did."

Jealousy pinches my in my side, neither for Will nor Christina, but for their certainty. I could see it now, both of them. Together, telling each other their love for each other, kissing not just for fun, but because it meant something to them. Being together through thick and thin. So that's why I'm jealous. For their happiness. For their absolute certainty.

"Alright, you too." I smile at them. I am happy for both of them, really. "Will, if you break her heart, I swear I will hunt you down and knock the man right out of you."

Will laughs. "Intimidating, you are. I won't hurt her." He looks back at her again. "I promise."

They kiss again, and I look away, hugging my book bag closer to my side. "See you too at lunch. Do this at home, guys." I say to them. I get a "mmhm" from Christina, and a sigh from Will. I enter the school, probably without them even even noticing I'm gone, and head to class.

I wondered where Al was. I should probably tell my journalism group about Four and I's secret meetings. Later, maybe. Later.

I open my locker, grabbing my history books, and I make my way over to class. My head was foggy with thought about mostly Christina and Will. When did that become a thing? Will Will come and sit with us at lunch? Would _his_ friends join us? He was on the football team, and he was pretty popular. Maybe he will invite Christina as his date to one of the Pedred boys' parties. I wouldn't be surprised if he did. Will seems nice. He seems like a keeper. I smile at the thought.

Once the bell rings, I am situated next to Micah, and Mrs. Jenkins arrives setting her books down on the desk. She begins, "Alright, class! Today will be a day dedicated to working on the project and-"

A random girl from behind me squeals, interrupting Mrs. Jenkins. "OMG! FOUR IS IN THIS CLASS!"

There is some screams from girls, and whispers from guys. All I think is Four? _Four?_ Why was he in this class? It was advanced history, and their was some juniors, even freshmen in this class, so I suppose it wasn't weird. But why was he in this class. How could I not have noticed? Did he just transfer?

I turn to see him, looking as handsome as usual, masked by his baseball cap on, trying to hide his face, and his sweater covering his toned arms. I wonder if the shirt he is wearing underneath is as tight as the white buttoned up one he wore yesterday. I see him glance my way. I look away, staring back at the annoyed Mrs. Jenkins.

"Settle down, class!" She hollers, trying to get the attention of her students. "Mr. Eaton's other history class was not able to… _handle_ him being there. The principal saw it for him to switch classes. I expect he should be treated no differently from any other pupil and will not have to move again, understand?"

No, no, no. I did not understand. Why was Four here? I wonder if he was staring at me. I know him, I wanted to say. I kissed him.

"Now." Mrs. Jenkins says, "As I was saying, please work on the project with your designated partner. Four, please see me."

I look to Micah, my thoughts still on Four. As he goes to the teacher, I can _smell_ him. His distinct smell of pine from his car, and some masculine scent, probably his deodorant. As he passes, I flinch, hoping he doesn't notice. As friendly as we were outside of school, what was outside of school _stayed_ outside of school. Most of the girls here would give me the stink eye for hanging with him.

I hear his voice, how deep it was, like the way I trained myself to hear to at the coffee shop whenever he ordered a drink so I knew he was there. I breath in.

"You okay?" Says Micah, actually sounding worried.

I let go of a breathy laugh. "Yea, I'm fine. Thanks for asking." I tune out all of my thoughts about Four and Will and Christina, and focus on now. "What's this project exactly?" I say, and he laughs, causing people to stare. I blush, feeling a certain pair of blue eyes on me.

"Were supposed to get something very important, whatever happened in the past that we find certain interest in or how it impacted the world in any way to anyone, and then remake it. You know, act it out and stuff." He shrugs. "It can be anything, like when the apple phone was invented, or Van Gogh's first painting, stuff like that."

I nod with realization. This wasn't hard. There was so many things that happened in the past that I liked. I think of something that may just make our presentation better an unique.

"Micah," I ask, "Can we do an event that happened in our lives that was important?"

He looks to the floor, as if deep in thought, then says, "I don't really know, but I don't know why we can't do that. I mean, it did happen in history."

I smile, grabbing his hand, and dragging us to Mrs. Jenkins, ignoring stares people give us, or Four's stare in particular, starting with a certain curiosity.

"Mrs. Jenkins." I say, releasing Micah's hand finally, "Can we do an event that happened in our lives that was memorable? Maybe not everyone knows it, but still."

She smiles. "It's history, is it not? I say yes." She frowns before saying, "Would you mind an extra person in your group? I see it he will fit in your group just fine."

I glance at Four, and then look back to Mrs. Jenkins. "Sure."

She smiles again. "Great. Four, you are paired with their group. Be good to him children." She waves her hand. "Get to work, class!"

Micah moves to where we were sitting, dragging over another chair for Four to sit.

I suddenly feel hot breath, on the back of my _neck._

"Long time no see, Tris." I feel his smirk without even looking.

I don't turn as I whisper, "We're in a class, Four. Stop flirting."

He just chuckles. I go to sit in my spot next to Micah, across from Four.

"Uh… so… Um…" You can obviously tell Micah's unease to be grouped with Four. I feel fine, though. As if being near him is normal, which is.

"Let's each pick a time in history that happened in our own lives and write them on paper. Then, we'll all compare and see which one we like the best." I start. Both boys nod their heads in agreement. I tear out three sheets of paper from my notebook, each handing them a sheet. I try to ignore the dirty stares of the girls, or the jealous and envious stares of the boys.

"Uh, Tris?" Says Four.

"Yea?" I say, trying to sound cool and not like I know who he is or spend my day with him at the coffee shop sometimes or that I kissed him.

"This paper," he holds up the paper that I handed him, "has writing on it."

I look over the paper, and see the writing of a story. I know what it is. A rough draft of a chapter to a story that I started writing. That was the rough draft of a story of mine… at _that_ chapter happened to be the part where the two main characters had kissed. I had a bunch of written drafts for that chapter, trying to find the best one. Only, I put it in detail. Nothing too disgusting, only how I would imagine a kiss would feel. I guess I didn't notice that I had writing on it before tearing it out from my journal.

"Oh!" I say frantically, practically ripping the paper from his hands and shoving it in my notebook. I hand him another piece of paper, and he cocks his head at me. I feel my neck reddening, feeling ashamed for my intimate story chapter. I need it to be in the story though! It was crucial. Did he read it? Hopefully not.

I breath slowly through my nose and start to write about the good things that happened to me in my history. I write down neatly in a list the things that mattered to me:

-My author award

-My archery academical excelance award

-My first kiss

I look at the last one. My first kiss had been Four, the famous popstar across the globe. I wonder if he knew he was my first kiss. I wonder if I did anything wrong. I know for a fact that it wasn't his first kiss. I sigh, and erase the last one. No one in their right mind would believe he was my first kiss. No one in their right mind would believe that I actually kissed him, and he kissed me back. And no one, not even Four, had realized that I may have... felt something.

"Tris? You… uh… ready to share?" Asks Micah, nudging my slightly.

"Hm? Oh, yea. I'll go last." I say, looking expectantly at Four.

He grins a bit. "I suppose I'll go first, then. Okay, I have, well, I have _four_ ," he snickers at his stupid joke. "Anyway, I have 1: Becoming an actor, 2: Getting star award for best football player in my middle school team, 3: Getting 'best kisser' award on this stupid tv program," he does a quick smirk, eyeing me. I know that he was a good kisser already, "and 4: Finding love."

The last one makes my stomach turn. I don't know why. I ignore the feeling, and watch as Micah stares at Four, seemingly impressed.

"That's amazing. I don't think my historical events would be as good as yours." I grunt at Micah's attempt to get closer to Four. "I have 5. All having to do with football."

Then, both of them look at me. Being the only girl in the group, I blush. "Yes?"

"Tell us your list, Ms. History." Says Four, to most of my surprise.

"Ms. History?" I say, turning my head in his direction. He shrugs. "Okay. I.. uh… just got two. My author award that I got in middle school for best written short story," I smile at the memory of me having to walk on stage, scared out of my mind, "and a stupid archery award I got at a summer camp I went to."

"Remind me not to piss you off, Tris. I want to keep my eye, thank you very much." Says Micah.

"Is that it? It can't be." Before I know it, Four snatches the paper from my hand. He holds it up to his eyes. "Ah! There was something here! What was here that you erased?"

Blushing for the millionth time today, I attempt to snatch it out of his hands, but he just pulls it farther away from me. "What does it say, Tris?"

"Four!" I whisper-yell, trying to ignore the envious and hateful glances that come my way. "Four!" I say again, louder this time. I start to laugh quietly, then louder, and he joins in. I do also start to get worried, though. People are staring and may start to put the pieces together that were are friends. Besides this is the most I have ever talked to him inside the school. Most of our talking is done at the cafe. I didn't want anymore hate. And I definitely didn't want Christina to know about this.

Four finally hands me the paper back, and I glare at him, only resulting him to chuckle some more.

"Well." Says Micah, obviously annoyed that he didn't get to interact with the school's most popular senior. "I think I like the one that Four said, on the actor. I can tell that is a very important moment, and I like to reincarnate that one."

I smirk at Micah's attempt to impress Four, who just rolls his eyes.

"Tris?" Asks Micah.

"Uh. I guess." I say, but in truth, I wish that we could've done the one on football. I'd have fun tackling the boys to the floor, beating the crap out of them. I laugh internally, thinking how _dirty_ that kinda sounded.

Four sighs. "Alright, I guess."

"You guys can come over to my place during the winter break," I offer. Both of them agree to my surprise, and I am happy it worked out. "I guess Four can tell us the rolls we have to play, and the outfits, and stuff."

"Okay." Four huffs. "Tris, you would be my manager, Mrs. Mathews. You would most likely wear…" he checks me out, literally from head to toe. I hesitate, and look away. I really should get over this stupid thing about boys looking at me. It's just feels so… awkward. I have no curvy body in any way. I look more like in the body of a 12 year old. Although I guarantee half the school girls would beg for Four to check them out. He finally says, "A blue long skirt, one that clings to your skin." He smiles, a weird one. "And the same color blazer, with a white button up tucked shirt underneath."

"What blue?" I say.

He thinks for a moment, and smiles. "Lighter than my eyes." He stares at me, his eyes full of mischief, and they glinted with something I can't tell. They remind me of the waves of an ocean blue sea. Or the night blue sky.

"I think I have something." A small smile appears on my lips. Thank god for my mom being a fashion designer-and her having fancy clothes.

"Micah." Four turns to him, and his eyes light up with excitement when he notices he was noticed by Four. "You can be my dad." Four winces, as if he's in pain, and then, his expression goes away like it was never there. I've never met his dad, nor have I heard of him on tv really.

"Sounds fair." Says Micah, nodding his head. I watch as Four leans back, his sweatshirt pressing against his body showing a bit of his muscles. I hear some girls sigh and giggle, and I look to see girls scattered among groups all occupying themselves by staring at Four with lovey-dovey **(AN: Lol thanks Aubreylovesthegames for the word =P)** expressions, appreciating his muscles. Four doesn't notice though. His face seems tired, as if he didn't get enough sleep. His eyes are closed, his head facing the ceiling, and his lips slightly part.

I look away, feeling awkward just staring at him like everyone else, although I can't help myself. He is handsome. Thankfully, the bell rings before he can see me staring, and I leave without saying another word to him or Micah.

* * *

That night, I am home alone curled up onto my couch with a bowl of popcorn at hand. Christina had forgotten about me and didn't force me to go to the football game this Friday, but that was fine by me. I was much more happy here on the couch relaxing.

My parents were both on business trips, returning on Sunday, and Caleb had taken Susan (his girlfriend) out to the football game on a date, although both of them don't really watch football or understand it, so they just went for 'fun'. That left me to do nothing, and I would've called Christina to hang out all day tomorrow or today, but I have a hunch she might be busy with Will.

This week's paper job was given to Amanda on the movie by Four. She seemed content by that, so we let her have the job. I wonder how this week's paper is going to turn out.

I flick through channels on the tv, and search for something I like. One channel in particular catches my attention. It's the _PopSugar_ channel where there is a woman who takes about at the latest drama and gossip about superstars. Half the time, it's fake, and I would just skip the channel because I don't watch this stuff, but their main topic today catches my attention.

It's on Four.

I turn up the volume, and lean, out facing the tv more.

" _\- superstar Four has been sneaking out sometimes to go… to a coffee shop? Critics claim seeing him come their specifically meeting up with a blonde headed girl. Who is this hidden beauty? Coming back to you after the break."_

I use profanity to it's best moment right there and then because I'm home alone. Its obviously me. Blonde hair, coffee shop. What the heck? How'd they find out? Who'd they interview?

I realize that I am on tv. And people are looking out for me, wondering who I am, envying me. I get up and pace back and forth in front of the tv. I shouldn't have hung out with Four ever! I shouldn't! He's a superstar and I should've expected this BS to happen! Know I'm all over the freakin' PopSugar news! I groan out of frustration. I may want to be on tv someday, but not in this way at all.

" _And we're back!"_ Says the lady on the tv. I turn my face to see what else they have to say. " _Another fan of Four caught a picture of the two together! Let's have a look."_

I freeze. A _picture_? Holy crap, this was actually happening. This was actually a thing people were watching right now. I smack myself for being so stupid and naive. The picture shows up on screen, thankfully blurry, and it's of only our backsides so you can't see our faces. I take a deep intake of breath. It's still a picture of me. I can tell because of the my blonde hair and his tattered baseball cap. I'm so stupid, so very stupid…

Then, the doorbell rings. I freeze again. Did I hear that correctly? Yes, I did. After that comes a series of frantic knocks. My breath get's hitched. Who could that be? Not my brother or my parents, I know for a fact.

I flick off the tv, much more than happy to ignore the person, whomever it is at the door, but they don't stop. Hesitantly, I rise, and make my way slowly to the door. Once I'm about 3 feet away, the knocks are almost impossible to miss.

I stare through the peephole to see who it is, just to see _another_ eye staring back at me.

I scream, and stumble back. Who the hell was that?

" _Tris? Tris! Is that you? Please open up!"_

It's Four. I can't believe the stupid guy came here. Did he not see the news? His arrival makes everything worse!

I stand there, not moving, before I realize he's standing in the cold weather and it's probably snowing.

I open the door, and he stumbles on top of me, basically tackling me to the floor. I yelp out of surprise. He gets up off of my, but doesent try to help me up. He just turns around, slamming the door shut and locking it.

"Four? What the-"

"Where's your tv?"

"Um, in the living room over there." I point it out. "But-"

He wastes no time in grabbing my hand and dragging me the way I pointed out. I feel as if I am on the edge of my seat, tingling with electricity and nervousness yet again.

He goes into the living room, and I have no time to think about how small my or unfancy my house probably looks like compared to what he has, or what I'm wearing, which is a black tank top and black basketball shorts that go past my knees, my hair messily braided down my shoulder.

"Four! I really want an explanation to as why you-umph!"

Somehow, he successful turns on the tv without my help, just to see the channel about him and I on, and he yet again crashes into me, forcing me to sit on the couch next to him.

"Did you see this?" He finally says.

" _Yes."_ I reply, quite angrily.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea that-"

"Okay, look, pretty boy," I say, not caring that I interrupted him. "I thought you said that the people didn't know about _this_." I motion the gap in between us. "You know, I'm pretty pissed off. Why the hell did they… how did they… like…"

"Look, Tris." He says in a calming voice. "The PopSugar news apparently have been wanting to get a piece of information like this on me for a long time. They want to find out my secret." He runs his hand through his hair, bits of snow falling from it. "Apparently, they think I'm cheating on Bridget, my girlfriend, with you. Bridget's threatening to break up with me and the paparazzi have been following me 27/7. I know you're not used to this, i'm sorry It'll die down soon hopefully." He sighs, although the thing I get the most interested in is that he doesn't seem as distressed as I thought he would about his girlfriend threatening to break up with him. It sounds selfish, but something tingles in my stomach.

"Oh." Is all I say. He's wearing a black crew sweater, and some dark jeans, and no hat. He's not that noticeable, yet he looks extremely cute with snowflakes in his hair and on his shirt, illuminating his eyes.

"I don't think the paparazzi followed me here." He winces. "That would be bad. Is anyone home?"

"Just me," I reply.

"That explains why you're dressed all," he motions to my body.

I blush. These seem like boys clothes, and are revealing and tighter than normal clothes that I wear. "Yea, well I wasn't expecting visitors."

"I'm not complaining," he remarks, making me blush again. "Our back up story, bye the way, is that we are working on a project for school and needed to meet up, got it?"

"Yea." I nod my head, feeling... sad. "Got it."

"Oh, and also," he says, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck, "can I stay for a bit? Just until the paparazzi clear?"

This makes my stomach lurch, although I don't know why. "Sure." I say as calmly as I can. "Are you hungry?"

"Nah. I think I'm gonna eat this popcorn though." He reaches for the bowl.

"Eh!" I say, snatching it out of his grasp. "First you come into my house without permission, and then you eat my food?"

He chuckles. "I guess I'll leave then."

"No." I say, before realizing it. I quickly cover it up. "Wouldn't want the paparazzi to realize that you spent a night a girls house other than your girlfriend."

"Who said I would stay the night?"

"Okay, now you sound like you _want_ to get noticed by the paparazzi."

He just chuckles again, and I let him have a handful of popcorn.

After that, we end up just watching a random program on tv after shutting all the windows and blinds in the house. He says the paparazzi like to spy, and that makes me nervous as hell. I give him a pair of Caleb's clothes, just an old pair of his boxers, a black shirt and comfortable sweatpants. He showers in the bathroom, and I sit on my bed flustered and oddly amused that he is actually showering in _my_ shower. Not that it's a big deal…

"Hey, Tris? He yells out after a while.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Could you, uh, hand me a towel?"

I curse myself out for not giving him a towel. He's probably freezing his butt off without one. And he's naked. I have an odd urge to giggle like a 2 year old.

I purposely pick out the pinkest towel out of them all, and come to the door.

"I'll leave it by the door and then I'll leave, okay?" I say.

"It's fine." He says. Before I can analyze what that means, he opens the door abruptly completely commando, not covering up anything.

I gulp, and turn my head, outstretching my hand in his general direction, making sure not to look anywhere in particular.

He laughs. "You have an odd taste in towels, Tris."

"Mmhm." I try to ignore the fact that he stands naked a couple feet away. He finally grabs the towel from my hands and closes the door.

I shiver. Well... _this_ was a great story.

I plop back down on my bed, stretching out my legs and settling with the journal dedicated to Four at hand, and I begin to write some things down.

 _Four: Male actor, Six feet something, muscle-y, handsome, blue…_

"Whatcha writing?" Says a voice. I jump to the side, to see Four standing there, his hair wet with shower water. I try not to stare at his chest, and Caleb's tight shirt he wears that defines his muscles.

"Oh, nothing." I slam the journal shut, my heart racing. It had all the information on him in it. If he did as much as read it, I'd know he'd know what it is, and our friendship and any chance of getting closer too him would end.

He raises an eyebrow, but doesn't push it. Instead, he tosses his wet towel at my face, and I complain that's not sanitary. He laughs, and sits at the foot of my bed.

I pull my shorts down, self conscience they had ridden a bit up my thigh. I take an intake of breath, and ask a question that's been on my mind some time.

"Why Four?"

"What do you mean?" He says, not taking his eyes off his feet.

"You know," I say, ancy to see his deep set of blue eyes. "Why is your nickname Four? Why don't people call you Tobias?"

His head snaps up at his name, and I know I did something wrong.

"Sorry," I mutter. "It's not my place to ask."

"Four times." He simply says.

"What?"

"It took me," he continues, "four times to become an actor. I auditioned four times before I finally got it. I guess the nickname just stuck." I can tell his unease to talk about his acting career.

"Four." I say, letting his name roll of my tongue. It had so much more meaning now that I knew the true story behind it. I think there is more to it. I don't push it, though.

"That's me." He grins, then yawns, lying his head down so it's inches from my feet. I get up and lie bye him. It's just like the coffee shop. Only a six inch space between us, the space charged with electricity. I feel it should be smaller.

"Since I told you about my name, when will you let me read your stories?" He murmurs, on the verge of sleep, I can tell.

"Maybe some day." I reply in barely a whisper.

And I really try to stay awake, I really do. But sleep pulls me into its shadows forcing me into a peaceful slumber.

 **Ok, so two updates in a row! I know, it's all cool and stuff.**

 **Thank you guys so much for the support! Please let me know what you think of my story so far by reviewing! I have a whole story plot that I plan to use… so yea =)**

 **Thank you all! You guys are so wonderful!**

 **~Sky**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sooooo… I updated :3 What do you think so far guys? I know, I know I keep askin' but… please review! I have so many ideas for more Divergent fanfic's as well =).**

 **Chapter 8**

I wake up feeling oddly relaxed. I realize that I didn't shower yesterday though, and nor did I change clothes. My tank top rides up my side, and a lot more of my stomach shows than I'm used to. I reach out my hand to pull my tank top back down. And then I feel it.

I feel a _hand_ on my _waist_.

I look to the side to see Four who is now only 3 inches away, and I can feel his even breaths on my neck. I inhale a sharp breath, as the memories of yesterday come flooding back in. Four had stayed at my house to avoid the paparazzi, and apparently we had dozed off. Certainly not in this position though, meaning only one thing: Four moves while he sleeps.

Four shifts his hand, and I watch as his warm palm presses against my bare stomach, squeezing tightly. His fingers curl around my side, and I freeze. His hand is so warm. I notice how long and narrowly built they are.

He scoots closer to me, closer than I would like, so that his nose is just barely touching my neck. I shiver, even though his touch is warm. He makes an odd noise from his throat, but doesn't show any signs of waking up.

This moment seems so intimate, yet he's not even awake yet, so he probably has no idea what he's doing. His touch is nonetheless, so gentle, that I find myself dozing off again.

I don't know how much longer I sleep for, but I hear his hushed voice, whisper my name. "Tris. Tris, wake up."

My eyes flutter open, and I am met with a face hovering over me, startling me. I shriek, and sit bolt upright. Probably not the best idea, though, considering we bump foreheads pretty hard.

" _Ow."_ he complains, rubbing his forehead and backing away from me. He is no longer touching me by the waist or the stomach, and I don't know if that's a good thing and I should be relieved, or if I miss his warm comforting touch.

"Uh, sorry." I say, looking in my lap. I wonder if he saw how he was using me as his teddy bear to clutch on to. I wonder if he was disgusted or delighted.

I stand, pulling my tang top down so my stomach is covered once again. I look at him, but he looks down at his lap now. Oh. He must know how he was touching me. There was no other reason for him to be blushing a deeper red than a tomato. He probably thought I was Bridget, or something. Does he do that with Bridget? Does he...

"I'm gonna shower." I announce, interrupting my thoughts before the could get any worse. "I think Caleb's home." I wonder if he came in and saw Four and I basically cuddling. Well, Four was doing the cuddling, not me.

"Caleb?" He asks, finally looking up.

"My brother. He went on a date last night. My parents…" I trail off. My parents never told us everywhere they went on business trips, only when they would leave, and when they would get back.

"It's ok." He says, looking sympathetic. What experience does he have with his parents? I never really knew about that, nor did I ask. I'm pretty sure that the media doesn't say a lot on his parents or any family at that. Not that I'm aware of, at least.

"I'm going to leave the door unlocked. Be ready to dive under by bed if Caleb decides to come in." I hope Caleb's not awake yet. That would make things worse.

"Alright." He says. "Quick question, say Caleb did come in here and find me. Then what?"

"You better be damn fast, boy," I say, narrowing my eyes, "unless you want him to beat the crap out of you."

I don't wait to see his reaction. I just leave, closing the door behind me, and walking into the bathroom two doors away. I remember to get towel, and a pair of skinny jeans and a navy blue top that's half sleeved. I make my way to the bathroom, strip, and hop into the shower, rinsing off every ounce of dirt from my body. All through the shower, I think of Fours' parents. I wonder who they are. I do remember him talking about his dad and how Micah was going to play him in our history project. But even then he seemed uncomfortable and closed off just talking about it.

After a while, my skin starts to get wrinkly from being in the shower to long, so I get out and wipe myself dry, thankful for remembering to bring a towel, and put on my clothes.

On the way out, I am so close to my room. Just 5 feet away. Unfortunately, a person's bedroom door opens, and a straggling Caleb bumps into me.

"Beatrice!" He says. He wears a white shirt and pajama bottoms, his hair a ruffled brown mess. He seems a bit dazed, probably because he just woke up.

"Caleb!" I say, trying to mask my surprise. "What are you doing up so early? How did your date go?"

"Fine, fine, Beatrice." Says Caleb, waving his hand like it's nothing. "I'm going to make breakfast. What do you want?" Oh Caleb. Trying to show mom and dad he's a responsible kid, as always.

"Whatever you're having is fine." I smile. "Be down in a bit, I just have to do something." Do something, meaning helping Four sneak out of my house.

"Alright." He eyes me. "You okay? What's that red mark on your forehead?"

A mark must of formed on my head that happened while bumping into Four. "I'm fine," I say, "Just bumped foreheads with Christina the other day." I scurry to my room before he can say anything else, and open the door. I look at Four who is no longer sitting on my bed, but staring at my pictures on my nightstand. When I walk in, he flinches, jumping back, ready to leap under my bed. I wonder what Caleb's reaction would be to find Four in here. Would he be surprised to see a boy, or surprised to see a superstar?

"Thank god it's you." He says. I notice a bump on his forehead as well. It sort of suits him, I guess.

"You need to leave." I go over to the blinds and peak outside. No paparazzi. Awesome.

"What? Why?"

I pull up the blinds, and unlock the window, opening it. The cold wind hits me in the face, gushing my wet hair back. It's not snowing, thank 's no screen to my window, because I like to go on my roof and watch the sunset a lot during the summer, so I discarded it. "I wasn't showering fast enough. Caleb's awake, and you need to leave through the window." Thank god for my room being near the slanted roof and a tree. It's cloudy outside, and there's no trace of sun, so that gives him a better chance of staying hidden.

"What?" His face turns white.

"I don't think Caleb would like to see a boy leaving my house through the front door like it's nothing." I say, rolling my eyes. "There's no paparazzi. Just go on the roof, and shimmy down the tree. It's not that far of a jump from there." He is pretty tall. It shouldn't be much of a jump. "Then, like, sprint to your house, or something."

"Shimmy?"

"Yes, shimmy!" I say, exasperated.

He pauses. "Are you angry about how I was… um… holding you last night?"

The question throws me off. I make sure I am quick to show no reaction. "I'm just peachy, Four. Now, stop wasting time!" I grab the sleeve of the shirt he is wearing and drag him over to the window.

I shove him towards the window, and cross my arms over my chest.

He asks, "Can I have a hoodie?" God, he's demanding.

I grunt. "Stay here." I push him away, and hear him remark, "Didn't plan on going anywhere 'till now."

I run to Caleb's room, staying light on my feet. Once I'm in, I rummage through his closet, throwing clothes everywhere, knowing I will get yelled at for it.

I find his old, black, sweater, and grab it, running back to my room. I hear Caleb humming downstairs while cooking something that smells like eggs. I see Four, waiting for me by the window obediently, and I toss the sweater at him.

"There's your jacket. Now go before the paparazzi come back."

He looks at me, and winces, probably at my stern expression. "Tris, I'm sorry. I was sleeping. Why are you so upset about it?"

Maybe because I've never had a boyfriend. Maybe because I've never slept with anyone. Maybe because I've never been touched like that. Maybe because you have a girlfriend. Maybe because this friendship is something else to me, something more than friendship.

I don't say that. I just look away, feeling foolish about everything I have done. He sighs, and I hear his footsteps as he walks closer to the window, tossing the sweater over his head. It's small for him, yet not to small. I mean, his muscles are more define. He looks hot, and I'm not complaining. I look away and scowl. What has gotten into me? Why can't I look at him?

"Go." Is all I say.

He looks at me, his eyes still wavering. "Tris…"

"God dammit! Just go, Four!" I'd never thought I'd yell this much at someone so loved by everyone. But I didn't really care at that moment. Besides, he probably just sees me as some agitated fan now, or even worse. Maybe he realized why I have tried to get close to him. Whatever feeling I have developed doesnt matter, because I know he doesn't feel the same way. I'm just a normal girl.

"Fine. See you later." He huffs and puts his head out the window. Before he leaves, though, he brings his whole body back in, facing me with his piercing blue eyes staring back into my dull blueish grey ones, as he adds, "That color looks nice on you." He tugs on the hem of my navy blue shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers admirably, and then, he's gone.

I watch him, though, as he goes onto the slanted roof to the side, slipping a bit at first, then regaining his composure. He squats for a second, takes a deep breath, then continues moving. I pray that Caleb doesn't hear his footsteps on the roof from in the kitchen. Once he's at the tree, he clings on the the branch, and hoists himself onto the little hollow part. Wincing, he slides down the tree fireman style, and hits the ground with a loud _thump_.

"Are you okay?" The word escape my mouth in a yell that he can hear before I realize that Caleb might hear. I can't see him though, and a part of me worries.

He stands so I have a view of his face which withholds a lot of surprise and concern. He then checks all his body parts, touching them gingerly, and then answers, "Yea. Yeah! I'm good."

He looks at me one more time as if he can apologize with just his gaze, then takes off into a sprint away from my house. _He must've walked here last night,_ I think, _Otherwise the paparazzi would notice his beat up BMW._

Guilt washes over me. I should've just driven him home and made up another lame excuse for Caleb. Instead, I made him walk all the way to his mansion. God knows where he lives. I hope it's not to far.

Sighing, I close the blinds, and go over to the kitchen for breakfast. I look in the mirror one more time to see the navy blue flowy top on. It color sort of does look nice on me, I suppose.

Smiling to myself, I head down the stairs for breakfast.

…

"I can't believe you gave the paper job to Amanda! She's not as good of a writer as you."

Currently, I am on the phone with Christina. It's three in the afternoon, and Four left about six hours ago. I wonder if he's okay, or if the paparazzi caught up with his somehow. I didn't see any news about him on _PopSugar_ , though, so that's a good news.

"Yea, well, I was busy, anyway." I lie.

She laughs on the other end. "Busy doing what? Watching netflix and eating popcorn?"

"At least I wasn't doing _it_ with Will like _somebody_ I know."

"You really think I'm that type of person, Tris?"

"Yep." I remark, and she lets out a feminine grunt.

"Oh, hey listen, I gotta go." She says. "You available tomorrow to go to the coffee shop?"

I flinch. Four went to the coffee shop on Tuesday's and Thursday's with me, but I never knew if he went alone.

"You there?"

"Oh, huh? Yea, sure. I'm down." Four probably doesn't go any other day. I guess I never knew until I actually went.

"Cool. Bye!"

The line goes blank, and I turn off my phone.

Caleb comes in from the kitchen, a bowl of popcorn at hand. He probably didn't have anything else going on today. I guess we can have some brother-sister moment. We never usually did, anyway. I was either writing or he was either reading.

"Barracuda," he mocks, and comes and sits on the couch near where I sat on the floor.

I pulled my knees up to my chest. "What was it? Fart breath? Stink breath?"

He scoffs, and I smile, tossing my phone onto the floor.

"Hows life treating you, lil' sis?"

"It's alright. I have a bit of drama here and there."

He rolls his eyes. "That's my Beatrice."

"Tris."

"Whatever. You wanna get pizza for dinner?"

"Yea, why not?"

Without our parents here, they basically just handed us any privileges we wanted and said, "Be safe!".

So that's what me and Caleb did. We ordered pizza, and sat down in the living room, munching on it and taking drinks from our soda cans.

"So," he says, after a while. "What's up with you and journalism club? I heard you guys are writing about… Three? No… Four. Yea, Four."

"Uh… yea." I say, swiftly taking a sip of soda so he doesn't see the conflicting emotions that cross my face while thinking of Four.

"Oh, please don't tell me my sister has a little crushy-crush on Four like every other girl in this fu- I mean, freaking school."

I look at him in disgust. "No Caleb, never." And it was true. We were just friends, even if I did have the urge to step closer to him whenever we were together. I mean, that's friendly, right?

I look back at it. Him wanting to hang out all the time? Friendly. Him putting his arm on my waist? Friendly. Besides, he wasn't even that conscious of his actions, so…

"You there, Tris?"

I snap out of my daze. "Here as I'll ever be. I'm gonna call it a day."

"Aight."

I smile at his attempt to be cool, and trudge up the stairs, finding my way to my room. I change into the clothes that I wore last night, not really caring, and crash into my bed.

Only to hear Caleb scream, "Beatrice! Why are my clothes scattered _everywhere_?!"

 **Hello peeps!**

 **I hope you like my fanfiction so far! I have a plot that I am going to stick with, and I plan on making at least 25 chapters if possible! Do you think I am going to fast?**

 **Btw, how do you do line breaks? or page breaks?**


	9. Chapter 9

**I EDITED SOME ALL OF THE CHAPTERS, IF U DIDN'T KNOW! =D I reread them, and saw a lot of errors and undescriptive details. Thats why its been awhile since I updated.**

 **BTW: Can you guys leave some dress suggestions? I don't want it to be necessarily too girly, but something, anything that will suit Tris. Thanks! R &R!**

 **I can't believe it's chapter 9 already! Is this a good fanfiction? Should I take it slower?**

 **Chapter 9**

I meet Christina at the coffee shop the next day. It's cooler outside now, and it's snowing more. Much more.

I wear a black pullover hoodie with no strings and some dark wash jeans. It is not the warmest thing, but I'll live. I put on some black vans, not caring if they ruin by the snow, and pull on some black gloves, driving over to the cafe.

I enter the cafe, and Christina is on me about my outfit.

"Dang, Tris! How are you not freezing your butt off right now?" She asks, shivering by just seeing me. She is decked out in a proper brown winter coat along with some mittens, a snow hat, skinny jeans, and winter ugg boots.

"Hello to you too, Christina."

"Sorry, It's just that I really care for your health, and I don't want you to get sick! Especially not now." She smiles. "Now c'mon, let's get some coffee."

We both order some drinks, and take a seat, surprisingly, in the same spot Four and I sit. She rattles into conversation before I get a chance to speak.

"So, you probably know why I wanted to meet."

I shrug. "I had my hunches. Either Will, or Al."

"Al?" She looks at me like I am crazy. "No, I wanted to talk about Will. But Al?" She smirks, and I blush. "What, do you have a crush on him or something?"

"What? No!" I screech. I get a couple stares from people around me, so I lower my voice and say, "I just thought that you thought that he liked me, so I liked him by default."

She lets out a breathy laugh. "Yea, well I think he likes you, and I think you too would be great together! Just one thing: He's not your type."

"How do you know that?" All my life I've never dated a single man. Yes, I have kissed an idiot man himself. But never dated anyone. How was she supposed to know my type?

"I just assumed your type would be, you know, packed with muscle, yet not buff. Olive skin, dark hair, introverted personality like you. Not always cheery and happy like Al." She says after seeing my expression. She then smirks, "Like a goth."

I scowl. "No goth."

"What's wrong with a goth?"

"Not my type."

She rolls her eyes. "Whatever." She stares out the window and the grassy hills, sipping her coffee. She's effortlessly beautiful, even if she has a bunch of makeup on right now. Her perfect long and red nails. Her wavy shoulder length dark hair. Her pretty mocha skin. I could see why Will liked her.

I, however, withheld no makeup at all. Maybe some chapstick, but that's it. I had on clothes that both boys and girls could wear, technically, and my hair was an almost dirty blonde, but a bit brighter. I had dull blue eyes, and no distinct features a girl should have.

I sigh, and look down at the things I had ordered, suddenly not wanting any of it.

"So what did you really bring me here to talk about, Chris?"

She looks up, a emotionless face plastered on her perfect skin. "You know, Will… and maybe that I got us into all the senior parties because of him… but oh, you know, mostly Will."

"Huh?" I can't contain my surprise. I was sort of expecting this, because it's Will, and he's pretty popular. But I guess I never expected it to happen so… fast.

"Yep." She pops the 'p'. "First parties' on Christmas day, in the evening."

"Christmas day?" I say. That was during the 2-week break we had, so it wasn't a big deal if we stayed out late. Although, it was Christmas day. A day dedicated to family.

"Ya." She says, twirling a finger in her hair. "I want to go, seeing I have no other plans. It starts at ten, hosted by the famous 'twins of trouble' themselves. Uriah and Zeke Pedrad, in other words." I remember Four saying he had a friend named Zeke. This could possibly be him. Maybe he will be at the party.

I shrug. "I'm in, I guess. If they even allow me to go."

She squeals with delight, and adds, "We will go dress shopping the week day before!"

I stiffen. I don't like shopping, and Christina knows it. I barely went, and when I did, it was normally for school supplies. I did go clothes shopping every now and then, but I didn't just go for no reason.

"Uh… I guess. Why can't I just wear, like, a shirt and a pair of jeans, or something?"

"Um, heck no!" She cries. "I would break your neck if you did." I didn't doubt that. Christina was extremely concerned about fashion, especially when it came to dances with hot guys.

I smile at Christina. She returns the gesture, and holds a hand in mine, squeezing it in a friendly matter, and then releases it, staring back out the window.

"Oh my god, I forgot to tell you," Christina says, smirking. "Will is the best boyfriend ever! We're already through the 'I love you' stage."

"Already?" I grin. "You guys taking it _too_ fast? Next thing you know you'll get married, have 2- No- 3 children, and get a-"

She shoves me playfully, laughing a bit. Her cheeks are tinted pink. I smile and she laughs, both of us not giving a care in the world.

* * *

The school week speeds by, and I find it easy to avoid Four throughout it. He's always got people surrounding him, pictures being taken, and girls asking him out 24/7. I would never want that kind of attention. I do wonder how it feels to get treated so… likeable-like, if that makes any sense.

Anyway, it's Friday afternoon, and we were sitting in my room on my bed, Christina and I, and she squeals randomly out of nowhere.

"Ah.. Gosh darn, Chris. What the hell?" I rub my ears because of her high-pitched scream.

"Today's the game, Tris!" She basically yells, throwing her phone to the floor. It lands with a soft _thump._

"And that is a big deal because…?" She groans at my response.

"Well," She continues, "the game means that Will will be playing and I promised I'd come to every game I could unless I had an emergency, or something."

I protest, "But Christina! I don't want to go to the stupid game!"

She gives me a glare. "Oh, c'mon, Tris! Please? Pretty please? I'll beg down on my knees?" She suddenly grins. "That rhymes! OH! I'll make it a song! _Please, Pretty please? I'll beg down on my knees_." She sings it completely out of pitch. I wrap my fingers around my ears at the sound of her voice.

"Alright, Alright! I'll go. Seeing I have nothing else to do." She claps her hands with happiness. "By the way, Christina, stick with your choice of career path. Your voice is- _Ugh_."

She smiles, and flips her hair all girly like. "Now let's get a move on! We only have what? Three hours?"

I sigh. This'll be fun

Two and a half hours later, I'm dressed in a Guardians of the galaxy shirt **(AN I'm sorry, I love Guardians of the Galaxy. Love it, and Chris Pratt)** , which is blue, and had starlord on it, quoting, "Dance off, bro. Me and you." In which Starlord has a funny pose on, his hair tussling a bit out of his helmet. She also put me in this skirt, which very short, frilly and black. God knows how I got _that_. I don't remember wearing anything so revealing and ugly.

"Christina." I howl, looking quite silly. My legs are naturally pale, and I look like a freak show having no tan. "No skirt."

"Awh, Tris! You look hot!" She grins. I grunt, and tell her to bring on the jeans.

This is better. Funny Starlord-shirt, ripped black jeans, and wrecked converse. The black of the jeans make the shade of blue in the shirt pop, and I didn't look half bad.

"Finishing touches." Christina hands me a brown quilted detail faux leather moto jacket from macy's, and gives me a thumbs up. Her look gives me a weird feeling inside. I wonder who plays on the football team exactly… I wonder if any boys in particular do…

"Done." Christina takes me in one more time, and adds, "You want to do some make-up?"

"No." I don't hesitate. Make-up was usually used to cover up my scars, if I ever accumulated any, and I didn't have any scars or blemishes at the moment, so why bother? I didn't look pretty as it is now. How would make-up help?

"Okay, enough with my appearance. Let's get out of here." I state.

Christina had stuck with the black skirt and a regular gray loose t-shirt. She had a small little charm that blended into her look that I could'nt explain. She grabbed her denim jacket, and pulled me along with her our of the house to her car.

It was a green mini cooper that she had gotten for her birthday. It was definitely better than my ride, a rusted old pickup truck. I hopped into her car without a doubt, and we were off.

Christina, who barely just passed her drivers test I may add, was a careless driver. A very reckless one, at that.

I hiss, as the car makes contact with the curb again by 'accident'.

"Sorry!" She yells over the sound of the radio. The song _Same old love_ by Selena Gomez blares out, killing my ear drums. She backs away from the curb, and speeds down the road toward school, flooring it while singing to the song with a very obnoxious voice. I grind my teeth together at the fastness of the car. Thank god there is no one on the street this late right now.

 _I'm so sick of that same old love, that -, it tears me up_

 _I'm so sick of that same old love, my body's had enough_

"OOOOOOOHH!" Screams Christina, laughing. I look down at my lap, feeling carsick.

She swerves right, and we are now only a mile from school. I grab at the roof, clinging to the handlebar thing like a life-support line. I should've offered to drive.

We finally end up in the school's drop off section, where Christina parks her car unceremoniously at the curb with a sudden jolt. I don't think we are not allowed to be parked here. Nonetheless, she announces that we are allowed. Dening rules as usual.

I get out, the frigid wind picking up speed, and sending it's malicious curveball of cold at my face, in which I shiver. I slam the car door shut, and walk in the way of the stadium, Christina on my tail.

We head to the stadium, climbing up the metal staircase, and claim some seats by putting our bags on them. The field looks great from up here. It is big, and the lawn is fresh with crisp green grass. It almost shines from the light attached to the large poles that tower around the stadium, making the stars look dull.

"Alright." Says Christina, dusting off her skirt. "Let's go and see the boys, okay? I want to wish Will luck. There playing the school Union I think."

I nod, and follow Christina to the direction of the locker room. The stadium isn't that full, yet it isn't that empty, either. A fair amount of people are surrounded in the seats, some ordering food, some relaxing and waiting for the game to start, some making out, all that jazz.

I follow Christina through a narrow dark tunnel at the foot of the stadium near the benches where the players come out to play. I listen to the clicks of her shoes as we walk deeper into the narrow tunnel.

I smell the locker before I see it.

It smells of a combination of feet, dirty socks, sweat, and something oddly sweet, the sweet smell of sports that you can identify if you smell hard enough.

"We are ready to play!" I hear a voice, distinctly male. Will. "We've beat these losers before, and we've lost to these losers before, so let's get out there and let's win this stupid game!" The others cheered, and Christina and I got closer to the locker rooms to hear them chanting, "Wolves! Wolves! Wolves!" Yep, we were the Witherstone wolves.

There is a couple more cheers, and I make a drastic right turn, following Christina, and we end up staring through a door looking at all the players getting pumped up, some still getting dressed. They seem as surprised as us when they see us on the other side of the door.

"Oh, c'mon, guys. We've seen a boy shirtless before." Christina runs up to Will and loops her arms around his neck, to which Will laughs, and kisses her cheek.

"Get a room you too!" Yells a dark-eyed shirtless boy, with toned muscles, I may add. He throws his blue jersey into the kissing couples direction.

"Oh, Uriah. You know that you and Marlene always do that sort of crap at home all the freaking time." Hollers another boy with dark eyes and skin. He is shorter than Uriah, yet older in a way. They have some resembling features.

"HEY!" Screams the boy named Uriah, as he tosses himself on top of him. I roll my eyes, leaning against the door frame trying to suppress laughter. It didn't work well.

"Stop! URIAH GET OFF!" Screams the other boy, as he kicks the one named Uriah off of him. Uriah just simply gets up, and brushes off his hands on his pants.

"Sometimes, I wonder why I am friends with you guys." A voice says.

The voice. The voice. A deep voice, so rich with masculinity and deepness. So engrossed with the sound of tranquil music.

I have trained myself hard to pay attention to _that_ voice. The voice of a famous popstar.

Behind a couple of guys, one with a truck load of piercings, and one with shaggy mudgy brown hair, stands Four, in his equipment. Football equipment, with the school jersey. When did he join the team? How did he join the team?

I feel frozen, and try to look as normal as possible leaning on the door frame. I had been avoiding Four, and not visiting him at the coffee shop. I honestly didn't feel normal.

Christina and Will break apart, and she eyes Four, almost suspiciously and surprised to see him. I know his eyes are on me. Christina looks at me, as if putting the pieces together. I refuse to make eye contact with either of them, knowing they'll see my reactions.

"Guys!" I try, clapping my hand together to try to unease this silence. I sound much like a couch. "Games starting soon! Let's… uh… get going!"

As if on cue, all the boys start chattering and pulling on their gear, while I stand there dumbfounded. Christina narrows her eyes at me, and pulls away from Will, letting him get ready. I just shrug, and scratch the back of my neck stupidly.

I don't look at Four at all, and after a while, some boys push past me, hollering in my ears, and forming a beeline towards the way Chris and I came in. I walk to the narrow dark hallway, and look for Christina in the mush of boys. Once the crowd clears, I find her talking to Will outside near the benches. She looks deep in conversation with Will, who looks distressed, and she leans into him. I decide to leave the empty hallway and go climb the steps back to our spot and give them some space.

"Tris."

I jump greatly. I thought I was in the hallway alone. The voice really rattled my head a bit.

A steady arm touches my shoulder. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

I turn and see…

Great. Four.

He smiles at me, but I don't return the gesture.

"How are you? I haven't seen-"

"When did you join the team?" I say. Well, I actually hiss the statement, and Four stares at me, surprise evident on his face. I guess he really didn't think that I could be this harsh. I didn't think so either.

"I joined last week. I tried out and made it. But-"

"I have to go, Four."

"No!" He looks at me in the eyes deeply before I get a chance to turn around. "I wanted to talk to you Tris! Stop being so stubborn! I mean, what did I even do?"

I realize I was mad at him for no reason. I mean, when you think about it, all he did was move while he slept. And I couldn't be the bearer of that. Is that why I'm all hung up about it?

 _Stupid._ I want to face palm right there and then. Maybe there was a different reason for my anger.

Was it Bridget?

No. No. I didn't even know her. And even if I did know her, why would I be mad? Why would that even be an option to think about?

Yet being my stubborn self, I decide not to back down. "You have 2 minutes to speak, and then I'm leaving to watch the game."

He takes in a breath. "Okay, I don't really know what to talk about… because I didn't really do anything wrong. But I was wondering if you wanted to meet up again at the coffee shop?"

"And get caught by the paparazzi again?"

"I'll be more careful!" He exclaims. "Besides, that's died down already. And we have the whole next two weeks off! It's Christmas and New years break, remember?"

"I'm very aware." How could I forget? I'm going dress shopping, and I have to get two dresses just for the parties. I know for a fact I will never wear them again.

"Let's pretend whatever I did did _not_ happen, okay? I want my friend back." I would doubt that, but he looks genuine. His handsome, yet worried face pleads for forgiveness, and I want to grant it to him so badly.

I look at him. He looks at me. I don't know how long we stare at each other like this. I wonder if I should look away. But he doesn't look away. And neither do I. I just stare at the artwork of him beautiful blue eyes, and the way they shine in the hallway with a guarded, yet nice expression. Not to mention he almost towers over me, and we are closer. Closer than I'm used to.

"Oh, shut up. You've gotta game to get to, superstar." I smirk at my word choice. He looks at me, the corner of his lips twitching upward into what can only be described as his monkey smile.

"How about a kiss for good luck?" He asks, turning his body a bit, almost suggestively. I let out a nervous laugh.

"How 'bout I just say 'break a leg?'"

"That's an acting thing." He says, pouting.

"Well, now it's a football thing." I am about to turn around and leave him to play, but he stares at me, the smile never fading. I pat his shoulder, which is rough from the gear.

"Good luck." I whisper, and then turn around, leaving him in the hallway.

I walk outside to the rumbling crowd, and start to climb the steps making my way over to my seat. But I feel something pressing on me, against my stomach, making me feel not bad, but ecstatic. I smile to myself and whisper under my breath, "Oh, forget it."

I run back down the steps into the hall where Four is still standing alone. He throws me a questioning look, and I mock back the same expression. I step nearer to him, and hop on my tiptoes, aware how my chest is pushed up against his, and I kiss his cheek fast, and happily. I lean back down, running out of the hallway so I don't have to see his facial expression.

Although I'm pretty sure he's smiling.

 **And that is it! Sorry for not updating sooner. Although I did edit all the chapters 1-8 more, so they are better. Also, leave some dress suggestions please, and if I like the dress Idea, I'll give you a shoutout! I need one dress, one for the Christmas party. I have one already for the New years party, soooooo….**

 **R &R**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 already… wow is all I can say**

 **I have many other ideas for stories, and I have this one that I plan on doing… but idk when I should… maybe I should wait till I finish this story. Then again, I am itching to show a new story of mine. I may let it out….**

 **Chapter 10**

I throw my head back and let out a loud laugh.

In front of me, Four stands in a brown striped shirt that seemingly was to small and short, with a black blazer and the same color dress pants. He seems to overdressed, and was definitely not dressed in his style.

"Oh, shut up, Tris. You look as bad as me." He remarks.

I continued to laugh, my cheeks turning red. It's true, I do look pretty bad. I was dressed in a baby-blue blazer with a white blouse and baby blue long skirt. I looked officially weird, and not myself, just like Four did in front of me. My hair was pulled back with black clips to top it all of.

"Are you going to let me in and stop laughing?" Four says with faint annoyance. The corners of his lips are turned up a bit, making him smirk.

"Oh, right." I say sarcastically, standing by the door and giving him room to walk in. He makes his way to the living room, me being hot on his tail. The heels I wear make clicking noises as I walk.

Today Four, Micah, and I have all agreed to meet up at my house to work on the project about 'Four's acting life,' or in other words, the time that Ms. Jeanine Matthews, his manager, had accepted him into the acting career. I was playing Ms. Matthews, Micah was playing Four's dad, and Four was playing himself.

He plopped himself on the couch, and I join myself next to him, removing the heels and rubbing my red feet. Gosh, how did any girl put up with these?

"I see you have taken initiative to decorate the place." He says, hunching over, his forearms resting on his thighs.

I smile at the fact that he noticed, and look around myself. It's not much, that's for sure. Just a old camera sitting at the coffee table poised upward and ready to record. I set up a white sheet as the background, hanging over the tv, pinned against the ceiling. On the sheet, I drew a crappy looking table, making it look as 3D as possible, with a door to the way opposite side. It was really bad, considering I am not the drawer. I have tried that already. I'm not a drawer, or a singer, or a dancer. Just a writer.

"Yea. You like it?" I ask, hoping it isn't too bad.

"No, I hate it." He looks at me seriously and stern, and puts on an angry face. "Why the hell did you not consult me on this?! This is a piece of crap!"

I look at him in a state of confusion and horror. Darn. And to think I was trying to impress him!

He studies my face, his eyebrows scrunched up still, and then, suddenly, breaks out into laughter. I look at him weird. He just howls loudly, clutching at his stomach, and wiping some residue that's in his eyes.

"You-shouldve… seen your… face!" He topples over, almost falling in the coffee table before catching himself.

A stupid, and harmless joke. Huh. I shove him. "You ass! I thought you were for real!" My cheeks heat up with frustration, but I can't help but smile a bit.

"And that," he laughs some more, "is why they call me an actor."

I begin to scold him more as he laughs his head off, his whole face becoming red. I begin to laugh to. He looks cute with a reddened face. I can't believe _I_ did that to him.

"Knock knock?" A voice interrupts our fit of laughter, and Micah stands in the doorway of the living room, dressed in a grey suit and tie. His hair is combed to the side, enhancing his face. He's handsome. Really, really handsome, once you direct the attention to his face. I've never thought to look at him like that. I don't like-like him at all, that's for sure.

"Okay, well," Says Four, making me break my daze from Micah. I look to him and see his hard and unreadable face back on. The Four face.

I clap my hands together softly. "Let's do this."

* * *

Someone busts out laughing. Again.

"Cut." I say softly. I run an agitated hand through my now disheveled hair. We have been practicing to get this part in the act just right. I don't know how many attempts we have been through so far, and only got a portion of it recorded before someone starts to laugh. It's so annoying, considering I am the one editing all this crap.

"I have to call it a day." Says Micah. He rubs a hand to his face soothingly. It is pretty late now, dark outside. I am uncomfortable, hungry, and tired.

"Okay." I yawn, and place the fake clipboard down on the sofa. My parents were back from there trip and are currently in the kitchen. They had come in numerous times asking if we wanted any snacks or food. I just declined, not asking Micah or Four for their thoughts.

I walk Micah to the door, and he steps outside while I stay in my warm house. He smiles, and gives me a light hug, into which I hastily give back. He releases me, and walks away to his car. I listen to his car engine as he leaves.

I close the door and walk back to the living room, to find Four lying lazily on my couch.

"What are you still doing here?" I ask, pushing his legs off the couch so I can sit.

"I don't know." He honestly says. He closes his eyes and leans back on the armrest of the couch.

"Well, I'm going to go get dresses out of this," I motion for my body, "outfit."

I cascade up the stairs and walk into my room, shutting the door behind me. I get out a pair of grey and white sweatpants that stop a little above my ankle and a dark purple t shirt and black jacket.

I look at myself in the mirror, unaware of what I might see. What I do see suprises me, yet I don't know why.

I am plain and boring, with my big smallmouth and slim nose. My eyes are bloodshot red from being tired of the day, and My hair is messed up with a bunch of loose strands hovering over my face, the clips obviously not working. I hastily remove them and let my short hair hover over my tired features, hiding them to its full extent. I sigh. I guess this is how I'll look for now.

I paddle back down the stairs, my now bare feet sticking to the cold wood floor with each step. I'm halfway down the steps and I hear something peculiarly weird.

 _Laughter?_

Yes, laughter. The laughter coming from my father and… Four. He's still here?

I walk into the living room, intruding on them both.

"Oh, Beatrice." Says my father, smiling wide. "Your friend here is very funny."

"Yes, Beatrice." Grins Four. "I _am_ very funny."

"A very funny and stupid douchebag." I mumble.

"Would you like to stay for dinner, son?" My dad asks, still smiling.

The thought disgusts me. Dinner? No. My father probably has no flippin idea who Four is. How famous he is, and how… _not_ funny.

"No dad!" I screech. My father looks at me, his eyes narrowing.

"Why, Beatrice. Let the man have a say."  
"Tris." I howl. "And do you even know who he is, dad? Do you know his name?"

My father scowls. "Beatrice!"

Four laughs, as if he finds this all funny. "In all respect, Mr. Prior, I would love to stay! Alas, I have to go. I have another interview tomorrow for my upcoming movie. Besides, I wouldn't want to trouble you," he looks at me, a smirk evident on his face. "And your daughter." He says that is a lower voice, a deeper one. Alluring.

My father seems taken aback by this. "Well, alright then. I'll see you… soon, hopefully."

"And I you." His acting skills disgust me. He walks to the door, but gracefully passes me first, handing me a slip of paper.

"My number." He says, eyeing me. "Don't be hesitant to call."

I probably look in awe. It's not all the time a superstar gives you his number.

And with that, he walks out.

 **Short… I know. But I'm trying to find the time. I will be releasing another story though, so go check it when it's out.**


	11. Heads-Up

Hi. WOW. It's been months. Yeah, I have no real excuse to that. I just kinda stopped and got swamped up in the famous sight called Wattpad. I don't know if I should continue. But maybe I will. What you should know: **1\. My writing has improved majorly since I left, so it's going to be different and better than previously.  
2\. I don't remember much about this story, so I may get some things wrong, and I am sorry because of it.  
3\. I am not going to update regularly, more to whenever I can.  
4\. You can find me on Wattpad with the same pin name (Sitdownandwrite) and I may just follow you back ;)**

This is **not an update** , merely just a clarification. I have to reread some of my work to get back into the vibe of what it's about, but will soon come out with a new chapter. Just know I am also writing on Wattpad and my own stories I am to scared to release to the public: not always fanfiction.

Thank you for understanding :)

SDW


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